


Utterly Oblivious

by blahrandomblah



Category: Sterek - Fandom, teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Alive Laura Hale, Alternate Universe - Human, Future Fic, Gym AU, Journalist Stiles, M/M, Oblivious Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-07
Updated: 2013-11-30
Packaged: 2017-12-25 22:11:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/958178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blahrandomblah/pseuds/blahrandomblah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story is based off of a prompt I received on tumblr. The request was for a 1k-2k word ficlet, but I couldn't resist the urge to make it a full-length fic! The prompt asked for a human, gym AU where Stiles and Derek don't really know each other that well. Here's what I've come up with: Stiles is a journalist working for the Beacon Hills Beacon. He decides to get a gym membership at Derek's gym. I'm not going to read the story for you, but there will be fluffy moments, sad moments, and steamy moments for sure! I hope you enjoy it!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't beta my stuff, typically, so please bear with any typos! Also, up front warning- this fic will be updated on a weekly basis (not daily). I fully understand if you want to wait until it is completed! Happy reading!

The original publishers probably thought they were quite hilarious in naming the town newspaper the Beacon Hills Beacon. Its brand new features writer, Stiles Stilinski, didn’t find it as amusing. He shouldn’t complain, though. It’s not every day a recent—if six months counts as recent—college graduate gets a job in the field their degree is in, especially if it’s in journalism. The decision had been a last-minute one, but Stiles figured his gift for talking and twisting words around would lead to a decent career in writing. So, two years into college, he finally declared his major in journalism. From that moment on, Stiles excelled more than even his dad could have predicted.

The Beacon Hills Beacon isn’t The New York Times or anything, but it’s a start for an aspiring journalist. Stiles has written a few articles for larger papers, but he wanted a stable day-to-day guarantee on top of his freelancing. It works out well because the Beacon has an open policy allowing their full-time writers to do as much freelance as they want, as long as it doesn’t affect their articles for the Beacon. On top of that, he even gets to write features instead of something boring like sports or wedding announcements.

Another perk of working for the town paper is getting a discount to the town gym. Stiles never really thought about working out. He was one of those lucky few that never gained the freshman fifteen in college. His metabolism just refused to stop working at peak performance, but Stiles isn’t stupid; he knows this will change as he gets older. So, he figured he would just bite the clichéd bullet and start now. Plus, most of his friends were on the five-year track at school. 

Lydia chose to double-major in astrophysics and microbiology, which was completely necessary because—as she pointed out to Stiles on multiple occasions—if she was going to discover new planets, she may as well be able to know if there is life on them or not. Even after all of his preparation during senior year, Scott was far more interested in girls than school work during his freshman year, so he had some classes to make up. Isaac had a decent football scholarship, but had severely injured himself during his first college game; he hasn’t played the same since. So, he has bounced around from major to major trying to find something that interests him as much as football did. Allison had also finished school, but she was interning with a fashion designer in Paris. With them all away, Stiles was perpetually bored. Working out would at least fill some of his time.

For a while, there was Danny. Danny graduated the same semester Stiles had and was working for some large corporation from home. Every now and then, he had to fly to headquarters and fix a computer issue, but his day-to-day tasks could easily be completed at home. Since they were both home, Stiles and Danny hung out a lot. Well, they made out a lot and even had sex once. Well, twice. Well, twice in the same night. One night. It had been Stiles’ first time and he wanted to get an idea of what he liked. Twice in the same night counts as once, right?

It’s not like Stiles hadn’t known he was gay for a while by the time Danny came around. He had made out with a few guys in college and had given and received a few blowjobs, but he had been drunk or high each time. Being with Danny—sober—may have been a bit much for Stiles. The morning after, he felt a sense of shame he had never felt before. Maybe it was because it was his first time. Maybe it was because it was with a friend, not a boyfriend. Maybe it was just bad and Stiles didn’t know how to tell Danny. Regardless, Stiles left that morning and didn’t talk to Danny for two weeks. Things have been awkward between the two of them since, and Stiles really can’t blame Danny for not wanting to be around him. Working out might help him work through some of his bottled-up issues.

Quick, anxious feet carried Stiles Stilinski into the small office that stood just inside the front doors of At Your Convenience. To his left, Stiles heard a mixture of heavy grunting and strenuous, uncontrolled exhaling. Clearly, headphones and an iPod were going to be a necessity. Stiles would not be working out right now if he valued his sanity, but he may as well fill out all of the paperwork while he’s here. 

The guy manning the front desk had his head propped up on his left hand and was furiously writing something on a scrap piece of paper. Whoever he was, he embodied Stiles’ idea of perfection. His biceps threatened to rip the sleeves of his white t-shirt down the middle. His shoulders, neck, and those little muscles that pop up between the two—Stiles doesn’t know what they’re called—gave the impression that he could carry a small car across town if he wanted to. Stiles also saw how ripped this guy’s chest and abs were because his shirt clung tightly to the folds of muscle there. The man turned around to grab something off of a table behind him, and Stiles almost let out an embarrassing noise. That was one incredible ass. If Stiles had molded the perfect ass out of clay, this was how it would have turned out.

As the worker turned around, he finally saw Stiles and Stiles got to see his face. Who knew eyes could actually look like emeralds? Stiles didn’t, but he saw two of them set under strong eyebrows. Stiles couldn’t remember when, if ever, he had seen such a handsome face. That face held up his right index finger, signaling Stiles to wait a few minutes. Stiles thought to himself that he would happily wait as long as it takes; it meant he got to keep staring at faultlessness.

Oh, fuck. Stiles was staring. Stiles needed to stop before the guy noticed. Stop being creepy, he thought. In Stiles’ experience, staring at straight boys only led to problems. There was never a good outcome in pointless, straight-boy crushes. In fact, Stiles had promised himself he would never crush on a straight guy again. There was no way to avoid breaking this promise when perfection was mere feet away, though. Stiles resigned himself to the oncoming pain.

Finally, the guy hung up the phone and turned to Stiles. “Welcome to At Your Convenience. What can I do for you?” he asked completely unaware of Stiles’ heart palpitations. Even his voice was perfect. Stiles really should have chosen a different gym.

“I…uh…I w-work,” Stiles struggled to speak. If he was going to have this crush, he sure as hell wasn’t going to let this guy know about it. He pulled himself together. “Sorry. I work over at the Beacon, and I wanted to join.”

“I’m guessing you’ve never had a membership here before?” the guy asked as his eyes assessed Stiles. After Stiles shook his head, the guy handed him a membership form and a copy of the gym rules. “After you fill this out, be sure to read the rules.”

Stiles filled out the membership form rather quickly. It was all basic information: name, date of birth, and whatnot. There was also a section on payment options. Stiles decided it was best to just pay for the whole year because the gym offered a large discount if he chose that option. He handed the form back to the worker and started reading over the rules. He got as far as “be sure to wipe off the equipment with disinfectant spray and a rag after use” when the guy at the desk spoke.

“Stilinski?” he said questioningly. “As in Sheriff Stilinski?”

“Yeah; that’s my dad,” Stiles answered.

“I bet you don’t remember me,” the guy wagered. He stuck out his hand to shake Stiles’, “Derek Hale. Our families lived next door to each other when we were younger. You were probably like five years old or something. It was before you guys moved into the city limits.”

“I don’t really remember the house in the woods,” Stiles lied. 

Of course Stiles remembered living next to the Hales. Now that he looked at Derek more closely, he can see how the young boy he remembers grew into this face. Stiles remembers because he always followed Derek through the woods as a kid. Derek was five years older than Stiles, and Stiles recalls thinking Derek was the epitome of cool. This isn’t why Stiles lied, though. The Stilinskis moved into town when they found out Stiles’ mother, Claudia, was going to need constant hospital visits. Thinking of their house in the forest is still painful for Stiles. 

“I do remember you, though,” Stiles added. “You were my friend Scott’s reading buddy when we were in kindergarten.”

Derek laughed. “Messy-haired kid?” he asked.

“You got it,” Stiles answered. “I don’t know why I remember that, though.”

“My mom, Talia, always said we spent a lot of time together when we were younger. It’s probably just one of those random childhood memories people tend to have,” Derek suggested.

“Yeah, maybe,” Stiles agreed.

The next minute was a bit awkward. Neither of them said anything, and Stiles was afraid his crush on Derek might be showing. He wanted to think of something to say, but he couldn’t.

Derek cleared his throat. “Well, have you ever used gym equipment before?”

Stiles didn’t want to seem like an amateur, so he lied again. “Oh, yeah. They had similar equipment in the gym at college.” He made a mental note to find a time when no one else was at the gym to come try out the equipment. 

“Great!” Derek said. “Let me show you around the gym, then, and I’ll get you your fob.”

“What’s a fob?” Stiles wondered.

“It’s your key into the gym.” Derek explained, “We don’t have a 24-hour staff, so we give all of our members an electronic fob that they can swipe at the front door. The door will unlock and you can get in. We have cameras all over the place to make sure no one steals anything, though.”

“That’s probably a smart idea,” Stiles granted. “So, what’s to see?”

Derek led them out of the office and around the gym. On the right side of the gym, they walked passed a wall of cardio machines. Stiles counted five treadmills, three ellipticals, and three stationary bikes. The complicated-looking machines for strength training were in the middle of the gym floor. There was an area in the front left corner where someone could do yoga. The left wall was covered with free weights and a bench press. Derek led Stiles a door in the back left corner; this was the entrance to the men’s locker room—apparently, the women’s was in the back right corner. Surprisingly, the men’s locker room didn’t smell horribly of sweat and feet like a typical locker room. It didn’t smell particularly great, but Stiles was happily pleased.

“We have a new exhaust system in here,” Derek said when he noticed Stiles shrugging his shoulders at the smell. How embarrassing.

“It works, man!” Stiles complimented.

“Thanks,” Derek accepted the praise. “That’s really all there is to show you. So, did you plan on working out or do you want me to get your fob?”

“I just wanted to get the paperwork sorted out. I didn’t bring headphones or anything, anyways, so I’ll probably just head out,” Stiles admitted.

“The sooner you get in to a routine, the better you’ll stick to it,” Derek advised.

“Yeah, I know. I’ll probably be back later tonight,” Stiles told him.

“Alright, then. Let’s get you your fob,” Derek said.

Derek gave Stiles a quarter-sized piece of plastic on a lanyard and showed him how to wave it over the scanner. There was a distinctive clicking sound that signaled the door being unlocked in case a person couldn’t see the light on the scanner switch from red to green. Stiles felt this was redundant. 

“Thanks for showing me around,” Stiles said.

“It’s my job, Stiles,” Derek replied.

“Still, thanks,” Stiles repeated.

“Not a problem. It was good to see you again,” Derek added, extending his hand forward for the second time.

“You too,” Stiles agreed, shaking his hand.

On his way out, Stiles couldn’t help but think of how much Derek has grown up in all of the right places. He thought it should be illegal to have such a perfect body but, then again, he was thankful it exists. Stiles mind was focused on Derek’s ass, though. In fact, he didn’t have anything to do when he got home. He could focus on that ass for a few good strokes if he wanted. And, fuck, did he want to.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles talks with Lydia and uses his gym membership for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention this in the first chapter (and I don't think I actually did it in this chapter at all), but I will be using the singular "they/their" instead of repeatedly typing she/he or his/her. FYI.

“What happened last time, Stiles?” Lydia’s voice rang out from Stiles’ laptop. 

“I had to stop hanging out with Matt,” Stiles answered sheepishly.

Matt had gone to high school with everyone, but was never really a friend. Once Stiles got back to Beacon Hills, though, he needed someone to hang out with other than Danny. Matt filled those shoes for a little while until Stiles’ enormous crush ruined any chance at friendship. Stiles hadn’t meant to lean in for the kiss; it just sort of happened. Stiles had been really stupid. He had misread Matt’s signals.

“Exactly. Let’s be honest, hun: you don’t exactly have any friends left in Beacon Hills right now, unless Danny has started talking to you again.” Stiles always did appreciate Lydia’s ability to be blunt. “Derek could be a good friend for you. Plus, if you crush out on him too much and he notices, you’ll never be able to show your face in that gym again!”

“I don’t really care about the gym, Lydia,” Stiles countered with just an edge of snark, knowing she was right. “You’re right, though. Derek and I used to be friends or neighbors or whatever you want to call it. It would be nice to have someone to hang out with again.”

“You should know by now that I am always right,” Lydia said with a huge smile on her face.

“I can sign out of Skype, you know…” Stiles jokingly threatened.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Lydia retorted knowingly. Stiles couldn’t help the laughter that spread from his stomach. “Go make a friend. He’s a townie like you. You’re meant for nights of drinking in the town bar, watching sports and other things that townies do.”

Stiles’ face contorted into mock horror and Lydia fell back on her bed laughing. Stiles sighed. “He’s so cute, though,” Stiles whined, comically displaying his bottom lip to form the fakest frown ever. 

“I know, babe,” Lydia comforted. “Just think about…Professor Umbridge or something while you’re around him.”

“He’s sexier than she is evil, though.” Stiles added, “And that really is saying something.”

“It is,” Lydia agreed. “I hope you can put aside your enormous crush and make a friend. You need one.”

“I have you, Scott, Allison, and Isaac,” Stiles argued. They weren’t close in proximity, but they were good friends nonetheless.

“You need one closer to home.” As Stiles started to interrupt, Lydia added, “Your dad doesn’t count.”

“Fine,” Stiles conceded. He may or may not have stuck his tongue out at her. “Don’t you have studying to do?”

Lydia smiled a half-smile. “Actually, I do. Try to behave once you disconnect.”

“I will!” Stiles promised. “Love you!”

“You, too!” Lydia echoed before pursing her lips toward her webcam and disappearing from Stiles’ screen.

Stiles closed the lid of his laptop and flung himself face-down onto his bed. Stiles had already committed to the no straight crushes rule, but he was happy Lydia agreed that crushing on Derek was a bad idea. It was always good to know someone else agreed with his decisions, especially if that person was his best friend. 

He was so proud of the relationship he and Lydia had now. When he was younger and tried to force himself to be straight, he directed all of his attention to Lydia. No other girls were on his radar. Once he told Lydia he was gay, she said she had always known. They barely go a day without talking to each other now. He trusts her completely, and he knows that she trusts him.

Of course, Stiles still has Scott, too. Stiles just feels awkward talking to Scott about the guys he’s interested in. Scott has told him many times that it’s fine, but Stiles can’t be convinced that it won’t be awkward. Still, Stiles likes to keep Scott informed on what’s going on in his life.

[Hey, man. Guess who I ran into today?...Derek Hale] Stiles sent a quick message to Scott.

It only took a few seconds for Scott to reply. [No way! Remember when he was my reading buddy and you tried to get Mrs. Argent to switch? You were such a dork.]

Stiles definitely did not remember that. He remembers being a bit jealous of Scott, but he would never go to such extremes, would he? [Lies. Anyway, I think I’m going to go to the gym now. Later.]

[Ha. Haha. HAHAHA! Don’t break anything, man. Gym equipment is expensive. :P]

[Don’t be jealous, Scott. I’m going to be able to kick your ass before too long.]

[Hopes and dreams, dude. Hopes and dreams.]

***

Stiles pulled up to the gym around midnight. He figured, this way, it was guaranteed no one else would be there. Luckily, he was right. His jeep was the only vehicle in the parking lot. There wasn’t going to be any pressure about using the machines right. He could figure things out on his own pace. Stiles walked slowly to the front door and swiped his fob over the scanner. The red light turned green and Stiles walked in. 

The gym was much more welcoming at night. The grunting and puffing from this morning was nowhere to be heard. In fact, the only sound heard was the slight hum of the industrial-sized air conditioner as it worked to maintain the temperature of the large workout area. Stiles walked into the men’s locker room and found his locker: number 24. He placed his wallet and keys in it, closed it up, and put on a lock he had brought from home. Now, he had no reason to prolong his workout.

Stiles exited the locker room and stared at all of the equipment. He couldn’t decide where to start. He walked around the machines for a solid five minutes assessing them and gauging which one would be easiest to use. Finally, he settled on a tricep machine. He sat down on the small seat and placed his arms over the pad in front of him. His knees were just under chest height and his shoulders were scrunched in an effort to grab the handles that were connected to the complicated pulley system. He tried to push the handles downward, but they wouldn’t budge. His neck felt trapped and his body was uncomfortable. Clearly, he was doing something wrong, and he couldn’t be happier to be alone.

The sound of laughter made Stiles jump off of the machine and land in a horrible Karate-Kid stance, facing his would-be attacker.

“Fuck, Derek,” Stiles exclaimed. His body eased out of its defensive form and his right hand cradled itself over his heart. “You could scare a guy to death.”

This reaction only made Derek laugh harder. Once he had composed himself, Derek apologized. “I’m really sorry, Stiles; I shouldn’t have laughed at you. If you could have seen yourself, though,” Derek started before laughing again. It was such an honest laughter that Stiles couldn’t take it to heart. Stiles started laughing himself, knowing that he looked like an idiot on that machine.

After a minute or so of laughter, Derek walked in front of Stiles and adjusted the seat height. He also moved a pin on the pulley system. “If you had read the instructions on the machine, you would know that you need to adjust the machine to your own height. It shows you how to do this. It’s also a good idea, typically, to adjust the weight to something you can actually lift. I’m assuming you can’t lift 110 pounds; I’ve moved it to 30.”

Stiles pride may have dropped a few levels, too. Derek seemed to notice, though.

“Stiles, lifting lower weight levels is nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone starts low and works their way up, ok?” Derek asked.

“Dude, I know,” Stiles answered, trying to seem unaffected. “How long is your shift here anyway? They make you work a fourteen-hour shift?”

Derek chuckled. “No one makes me do anything here, Stiles.” Stiles raised an eyebrow at him. “This is my gym, Stiles. I own it. I’m the boss.”

Comprehension dawned across Stiles’ face. “Really? That’s cool. Why do you work the front desk then?”

“It’s cheaper,” Derek shrugged. “Plus, I don’t really do anything during the day, so I may as well have something to do.”

“It still seems like you’re here really late,” Stiles commented.

Derek bit his bottom lip. Stiles felt a twitch under his gym shorts. “I figured you hadn’t actually ever used these machines, and you said you were coming back tonight. So, I waited.”

The idea of Derek waiting here all day for him to come back did nothing to alleviate Stiles’ massive crush on him. There’s no way he was going to let Derek know that, though. “I’m that transparent?”

“When you work in these places long enough, you sort of get a feel for people,” Derek answered.

“I don’t know why I lied. I just didn’t want to seem like an idiot,” Stiles said. “Although, I still managed that a few minutes ago, I think.” The two of them started laughing again.

“I could help, if you like,” Derek volunteered.

“I can’t really afford a personal trainer,” Stiles replied.

“Stiles, we used to be neighbors. I think I can help you out for free,” Derek offered. “Plus, your dad keeps an eye on the place for me when he’s on duty. It’s the least I can do.”

In his mind, Stiles knew it would be a horrible idea to let Derek be his personal trainer. Trainers touched their trainees to help them know where they should be feeling the burn. Stiles didn’t need any physical contact between him and Derek on top of his already large crush. He knew it in his mind. He ignored the logic, though.

“That would be great, Derek,” Stiles said. “I could use the help.”

“I noticed,” Derek teased. “Here. Sit down and I’ll show you how this works.”

Stiles spent the next hour just learning how to use the machines. Derek didn’t put him through a workout, because he wanted to come up with a schedule for cardio, arms, legs, chest, etc that would best suit Stiles. So, Derek made Stiles do one set on each machine with a really low weight. He just wanted Stiles to understand the right form on the machines.

Stiles had been right. There was a lot of physical contact between the two of them. Derek would touch Stiles’ arm to explain where the tricep was and where the bicep was. He placed his hand flat on Stiles’ chest and back while showing him the machines that worked those areas. It almost got awkward when Derek placed his hand flat against Stiles’ stomach while showing him the assisted crunch machine.

“You should feel this whole area tighten as your crunch down,” Derek started to explain when Stiles’ body shivered. “I’m sorry,” Derek said at the reaction.

Calm yourself, Stiles thought. You aren’t a teenage boy anymore; you can control yourself. He was able to save the situation by laughing almost immediately after the reaction. “I’m insanely ticklish,” he said. “I should have warned you.”

“I should have asked first. I just got caught up in the…training,” Derek hesitated.

Well, fuck. Derek felt uncomfortable.

“There’s only one more machine, Stiles,” Derek said. “Let’s try it.”

Well, he was at least comfortable enough to continue. That was a bonus. He didn’t touch him at all on the last machine, though. Stiles was silently berating himself the entire time. Luckily, it was the last machine, and Stiles could stop embarrassing himself soon enough.

“Thanks for your help, Derek,” Stiles said. “I’m much better prepared now.”

“Hey, it’s not a problem,” Derek replied. “Is this what time you want us to train every night?”

Stiles was caught a bit off guard by the question. Maybe Derek wasn’t as uncomfortable as Stiles had thought. Stiles had probably just overanalyzed Derek’s hesitation like he does everything else. 

“This works for me,” Stiles answered. “I don’t really like the idea of anyone watching me work out. But, if that means you have to stay too late, I can come in earlier.”

Derek shrugged again. “I live in an apartment a few blocks away. I can go home and then come back for your workout.”

“Are you sure?” Stiles asked.

“Definitely,” Derek said, smiling widely.

“Cool!” Stiles answered, cursing himself for being so nerdy. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, then?”

“Midnight,” Derek answered.

Stiles nodded at Derek and then headed to retrieve his things from the locker room. He hadn’t worked hard enough to really break a sweat, so Stiles just grabbed his things and headed home. He couldn’t help but think of all places Derek had touched him, though. He wasn’t even ashamed has his gym shorts seemed to grow tighter around his crotch. One last thought did cross his mind before he went to bed, though, and he had to text Scott.

[I didn’t break anything, and I knew how to use every bit of equipment!]

[Liar.]

[I didn’t break anything…]


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and Stiles decide to hang out.

Stiles had been training with Derek for two weeks, and the time had done nothing to alleviate Stiles’ infatuation with Derek. Derek was such an incredible coach and really knew his fitness. The muscle talk turned Stiles on in and of itself. Derek created a complex routine that had separate days for arms and legs, and included some interval training for cardio three or four times a week. He always left Stiles feeling completely worn out—not quite in the way Stiles would have wanted. Stiles was surprised when he noticed that the weights were getting easier after such a short time, but Derek had told him that was natural as the muscles became used to the weight.

The biggest problem for Stiles’ crush on Derek was when Derek started working out with Stiles. It only started a few days ago, but Stiles couldn’t get enough of it. Clearly, Derek was capable of lifting much more weight than Stiles was. Stiles watched as Derek’s arms swelled and tightened during his workouts. He noticed how sweat seemed to highlight all of Derek’s muscles as Derek exerted himself. Stiles didn’t even mind the huffing and puffing noises that Derek made. In fact—if he was honest—the noises drove Stiles mad. 

Stiles was really proud of himself, though. He hadn’t done a single thing to let Derek know that he was paying attention to all of this. He hadn’t tried to kiss Derek like he had done with Matt. Stiles was behaving. Derek and Stiles seemed to get along well during their workouts, so Stiles decided he would start working up the nerve to ask Derek to hang out sometime. It would take a while, though, or so he thought.

Stiles had just completed his last set on the shoulder machine. Derek was fixing the machine for his own weight, and Stiles watched as Derek pushed himself through his set. They wiped off the machine afterwards and headed to the locker room. Luckily for Stiles, Derek’s locker was in the back corner of the locker room, so Stiles could change without looking at Derek—no matter how much he wanted to look.

The lock clicked as Stiles twisted in the correct combination. He pulled out his non-workout clothes and placed them on the bench behind him. Derek was in the corner taking off his shirt, so Stiles turned back to face his locker and behave. He kicked off his shoes and pulled his socks off. Stiles hooked his fingers under his shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it onto the top shelf of his locker. He reached down to untie his gym shorts when he heard the distinct sound of bare feet on a locker room floor. 

He turned his head to the right as Derek stopped in front of him, grabbing the top of Stiles’ locker door with his right hand. Derek probably thought this was a casual, relaxed action but, of course, he didn’t have a shirt on yet. Stiles hadn’t seen Derek’s bare upper body yet and, fuck, had he been missing out. How many abs could a person have? Stiles wanted to trace all of the contours of Derek’s body…with his tongue. Stiles couldn’t get over how incredibly sexy Derek looked. 

“Can I ask you something, Stiles?” Derek wondered.

“Hmmm?” Stiles murmured, not being able to focus. He forced himself to look at Derek’s face.

“Can I ask you a question?” Derek repeated, oblivious to Stiles’ momentary shock.

“You just did,” Stiles answered, unable to temper his natural tendency to be a smartass. Derek laughed. Stiles blushed a little. “What’s up?”

“We get along well, right?” Derek asked.

“I think so,” Stiles shrugged.

The left side of Derek’s mouth curved up into a sheepish half smile. “I think so, too. Stiles, I don’t have a lot of friends around here anymore. Most of the people I graduated with are assholes, and I just don’t put myself out there to meet new people. I was thinking, since neither of us seems to annoy the other, that maybe we could go get a drink sometime.” Derek was avoiding eye contact with Stiles. If Stiles didn’t know better, he would say that Derek was nervous. Derek added, “You know, if you want to.”

Stiles had promised Lydia that he would try to befriend Derek. Not to mention, Stiles has enjoyed every minute he’s spent with Derek in the gym. “That sounds fun,” Stiles said.

“Really?” Derek asked, finally looking at Stiles.

“Yeah. I don’t really have a lot of friends around here, either,” Stiles admitted. Stiles hoped he didn’t sound too eager when he offered, “We could get a drink at Murphy’s tonight.”

The smile that spread across Derek’s face made Stiles’ stomach do flips. He definitely wanted to see that look on Derek’s face again. “That sounds great to me, Stiles. You want to meet there around 9:00?”

“Sure!” Stiles said.

Derek nodded and walked back over to his corner. Stiles let out a soft sigh of relief. It was quite a struggle focusing on Derek’s face when his exposed abs were screaming at Stiles. He did it, though. He controlled himself, and now he’s going to hang out with someone who could become a really good friend. 

***

Stiles put on at least seven different outfits before leaving the Stilinski house. He was trying to find the right outfit that said, “I’m well-put together, but I absolutely don’t have the world’s biggest crush on you.” He finally settled on jeans and a red, plaid button-up shirt with brown shoes. Who was he trying to impress anyway?

There were a few bars in Beacon Hills, but Murphy’s was Stiles favorite. It was next to a 24-hour deli and it wasn’t typically as busy as the other bars. Stiles was nervous as he walked through the front door. When he walked in, he saw Derek seated at the left corner of the bar sipping on a drink. Derek saw him, smiled, and waved him over. Stiles took a deep breath and walked to where Derek sat.

“Hey,” Derek said. “You actually came.”

Stiles laughed. “That was the plan.”

“I didn’t know if you would back out or not,” Derek replied.

“I told you: I don’t have any friends,” Stiles reminded him. “Plus, I’m a man of my word.”

“I’m glad,” Derek said. 

Stiles stepped around the corner of the bar and sat next to Derek. The bartender walked up and interrupted them. She was quite tall and rather thin. She wore a tight tank top that highlighted her disproportionately large chest. He blond hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, and she smiled brightly at the pair of them.

“Another Jack and Coke, Derek,” she asked.

“Sure,” Derek answered.

“What about you tall, pale, and nerdy?” She asked Stiles, jokingly.

He laughed. “I’ll take the same,” Stiles said, pulling out his credit card to start a tab.

Derek pressed his hand against Stiles’ arm. “Put that away, I got.” He turned to the bartender. “Sarah, you can put them both on my tab.” After she nodded to him, Derek turned back to Stiles.

“You don’t have to do that,” Stiles said.

“I know, but you’re saving me from another night as a hermit; so, it’s the least I can do,” Derek asserted.

“Fine, but I’ve got the next round for the same reason,” Stiles decided. The both laughed.

It didn’t really surprise either of them that they got along so well. In a sense, they had been hanging out for two weeks. After a few drinks, the conversation shifted from working out and catching each other up on their respective families to more personal conversations. 

“So, what made you become a journalist?” Derek asked after his third Jack and Coke.

Stiles took a sip of his drink; he was a bit of a lightweight, and was already feeling the alcohol. “I tell most people that it’s because I talk so much and figured writing would be a good outlet for that.”

“That makes sense.” Derek felt comfortable enough to pry, though. “What’s the real reason, then?”

Stiles measured Derek cautiously. Stiles’ face twisted into a contemplative smirk, and he decided to answer Derek’s question. “During my first semester in college, I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. One night, Dad asked if I would go through some old boxes upstairs to find my mom’s and his wedding album. While I was looking through everything, I found this box of notebooks. They were my mothers and, in them, were multitudes of these little short stories she had written. They were so great!

I asked my dad about them, and he told me she used to enjoy writing in her free time. That made me take a creative writing class. The professor told me I had a style that was better-suited to journalism and investigative writing. I took a few classes and fell in love. Now, when I write, I feel like she’s still a part of my life somehow. That probably sounds silly, doesn’t it?”

Derek was smiling. “It doesn’t sound silly at all, Stiles. You know I lost my parents, too. I understand the urge to remember them. If I didn’t still have Laura, I don’t know if I’d be as well-adjusted as I am today.”

“How is Laura?” Stiles asked.

“She’s doing really great!” Derek answered. “She’s working on a dissertation at Berkley. She’s perfectly convinced that she’ll finish in four years instead of five, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it happens.”

“Wow, she sounds a lot like my friend Lydia: too smart for her own good,” Stiles joked.

“That is definitely the case,” Derek agreed.

A few minutes passed without either of them saying anything. Stiles couldn’t take the silence.

“So, what about you?” Stiles started. “I mean, what made you open a gym? How’d you get the money to do it?” Stiles asked the second question before his filter could kick in. Damn alcohol, he thought. “God, sorry. You don’t have to answer that second part.”

“It’s fine,” Derek said, still smiling. “Mom and Dad left Laura and I each a bit of money. It was enough for us to go to school like Laura, or buy a small building and open a gym like me. I worked at a sporting goods store and as a personal trainer to help buy some of the equipment, too.”

“And why a gym?” Stiles repeated.

“I never really had the urge to go to college. Too many things interested me that I would never have been able to decide on a major. When my parents died, I started working out intensely to help get through the pain. I learned a lot of tricks and became a really good personal trainer. I was paying a lot of money for gym memberships and kept thinking about better ways to run one. So, I took the money I had been left and bought this place. 

It’s fairly self-sustaining now. As long as no one breaks too much equipment, I even do ok most months. I like it because I set my own hours. I can read while I’m behind the desk, and so I still get to explore my interests. I never went to college, but I’ve always worked to educate myself. Being my own boss has made that easier,” Derek explained.

“Well, it’s a great gym,” Stiles complimented.

“Thanks,” Derek accepted.

They continued to talk over a few more drinks. Derek held his liquor better than Stiles, but even Derek was fairly drunk by the time they left Murphy’s. Stiles insisted that they walk next door to the deli for food afterwards. 

“I’ll take two ham sammiches,” Stiles told the worker. Stiles turned to Derek. “Wait. D’you even like ham, D’rek?”

“S’good to me,” Derek mumbled.

“K. K. Two ham sams, please,” Stiles repeated to the worker. Then, his eyes opened wide and he said to Derek, “ham…sam…those rhyme. Ham. Sam. Cam. Jam.”

“Bam!” Derek added happily.

“BAM!” Stiles echoed.

Stiles managed to fumble his way through paying for the sandwiches. He and Derek walked outside and sat on a bench in front of the deli. They ate their sandwiches and decided it was best not to drive anywhere.

“Guess w’ can call m’dad,” Stiles shrugged.

Derek shook his head. “My place is just that way,” Derek said pointing past Murphy’s. “S’like five, maybe six blocks. I have a couch.”

“Sounds good,” Stiles agreed, recognizing somewhere in the back of his head that he never would have agreed to sleep over at his crush’s apartment sober.

Stiles only managed to make it to Derek’s because the sandwich had sobered Derek up a bit. Stiles nearly fell over three times, but Derek caught him. Derek got Stiles onto the couch, and Stiles’ vaguely heard him saying something like, “Thanks for a good night, Stiles” before losing consciousness and drifting off to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles wakes up in Derek's apartment. Then, he has a short chat with Scott and Lydia.

Derek’s lips were softer than Stiles had imagined they would be. They trapped Stiles’ lower lip skillfully as Derek’s hand rested in the middle of Stiles’ chest. Stiles’ face protested slightly as Derek’s beard scraped over his chin and cheeks. The protestation slowly morphed into a hunger for the scratchy movement. The longer they kissed, the harder Stiles became. Derek knew exactly how much he was driving Stiles crazy.

Derek’s hand traced the smooth contour of Stiles’ torso as he slowly lowered his hand from Stiles’ chest down to his navel. Derek rubbed tiny circles into Stiles’ skin there and Stiles felt a shiver run through his body. He never thought his belly button would be a source of arousal, but he could feel the tip of his cock bend upward at the contact. Derek slid his hand to greet Stiles’ leaking erection. His fingers were slipping under the band of Stiles’ boxer briefs when…

The unfamiliar creaking scrunch of the leather couch woke Stiles sharply from his dream. Haze-filled memories from last night flashed across his mind reminding him where he was. Based on these recollections, Stiles has still managed to keep his crush on Derek a secret. Due to that dream, though, Stiles knew the night out did nothing to lessen his feelings for Derek either. 

A noise in the kitchen interrupted his thoughts and made Stiles open his eyes. He looked to his right and saw Derek moving some pans around. Derek paused for a moment and stretched his arms high over his head, stretching himself into consciousness and revealing lean, well-trained back muscles just above his ass. The movement made Stiles’ crotch twitch. Oh, shit, Stiles thought. He looked down at his own crotch and the sheet Derek had covered him in last night did nothing to hide the morning wood Stiles was still sporting.

Stiles moved quickly to tuck his erection under the waistband of his boxer briefs. The noise from the leather drew Derek’s attention to Stiles. Luckily, Stiles had been successful in hiding his embarrassment before Derek saw it.

“Good morning,” Derek said. He smiled brightly at Stiles and rose his eyebrows as he asked, “How are you feeling?”

Stiles hadn’t really considered any of his alcohol-related feelings. His stomach seemed mostly settled and he didn’t have a headache. He returned Derek’s smile and said, “I’m think I’m good, you?”

“My muscles seem a little sorer than they usually would on a Saturday morning, but I’m ok,” Derek answered. “What do you like in your omelet?” he asked, turning back to his work in the kitchen.

“Dude, I don’t discriminate when it comes to omelets!” Stiles stated. “I am an equal opportunity chicken aborter.”

Derek fell against the counter slightly as he laughed harder than Stiles had ever heard him laugh. 

“What’s so funny?” Stiles asked.

Derek settled himself. “You know that the eggs you buy from the store aren’t fertilized, right? I mean…you’re not really aborting a baby chick or anything when you eat an egg.” He started cracking up again.

“I actually did pass elementary school,” Stiles countered. “Surprising as it may seem, it’s true. It’s still a grade-A joke,” Stiles added.

“Well, I guess I have to give you that one,” Derek agreed.

“Dude!” Stiles grumbled.

“What?” Derek wondered.

“Grade-A joke…grade-A eggs…you missed my second joke. Are you even listening to me?” Stiles asked. Before letting Derek answer, Stiles professes, “There’s some world-class comedy happening right on your couch.”

Derek laughed again. “Keep telling yourself that, Stiles.”

“All day, every day!” Stiles admitted.

The next few minutes were filled with the sound of sizzling vegetables as Derek sautéed them before making them into omelets. Stiles couldn’t remember a breakfast that had smelled so good. He didn’t like the silence, though.

“Hey, thanks for letting me crash here last night,” Stiles said.

Derek had finished plating the omelets and was carrying them over as he replied, “It’s not a big deal.”

“Still, thanks,” Stiles repeated. He sat up and made room for Derek on the couch. Derek sat a little closer than Stiles had expected, but it didn’t make Stiles uncomfortable. “Oh, and thanks for breakfast, too. This smells great.”

Derek shrugged and smiled. “You’re welcome.”

The smells served no justice to how incredible the eggs tasted. Stiles ate his omelet embarrassingly fast and exhaled his contentment as he relaxed into the couch. Derek had finished his almost as quickly and was sinking into his own cushion of soft leather.

“Was it as good as it smelled?” Derek asked.

“I can honestly say that it was not as good as it smelled,” Stiles confessed.

Derek’s head twitched a little in surprise and disappointment. “Oh.”

Stiles hit Derek’s arm lightly with the back of his hand. “Derek, it was even better than it smelled. Don’t be such a pessimist, man.”

“Really?” Derek asked. Stiles nodded and a sheepish smile spread across Derek’s face. “I’m glad you liked it.”

Stiles didn’t know what to say next, so he grabbed his phone out of his pocket to check the time. Of course, it was dead. He asked Derek, “Do you happen to know what time it is?”

“I don’t, but that huge clock on the wall right there says it’s almost 10:30,” Derek answered pointing to a custom-looking clock that was about four feet by four feet. “

“Ah, yes. Yes, it does. I see that now,” Stiles said, mocking himself. “I promised my dad I would help him update his computer at the station today. So, I should probably get going.”

Stiles must be going crazy because he thought he saw Derek’s smile falter for a second before he said, “Alright! I had a good time last night, Stiles,” Derek said.

“Me too!” Stiles agreed. “We’ll have to do it again sometime.”

“I’d like that,” Derek replied.

Stiles nodded once. “So would I.” He smiled at Derek before heading for the door.

***

[Dude, I got totally wasted last night with Derek at Murphy’s. Crashed on his couch. No hangover, though!] Stiles texted to Scott.

[Stiles…listen. Don’t repeat the Matt thing, man.] Scott answered.

Stiles was taken aback, slightly. He didn’t know Scott paid attention to the Matt situation. [I get it. Derek’s straight. I’m not looking for anything here. It was his idea for me to crash there anyway.]

[I just hate seeing you disappointed or hurt, man. Be careful.] Scott sent.

[I will. You coming home anytime soon?] Stiles asked.

[Yeah. I’ll be in BHills next weekend.] Scott answered.

[Cool. Can’t wait. :) ] Stiles said.

***

Stiles was out of his depth with his dad’s computer. The programs used by the police were different than the programs Stiles was used to. If he were honest with himself, he could update the computer with enough time; however, he would probably destroy, lose, or corrupt important records and files. He was going to have to bite a really hard bullet to fix this. Fuck.

Stiles started dialing a number he probably should have deleted from his phone. To his surprise—and maybe a bit to his horror—his call was answered two rings in. The voice on the other end was short and curt.

“Stiles?” the voice answered. “What do you want?”

“Look, Danny,” Stiles started, “I know I was a complete jerk to you, but I could use a huge favor.”

There was silence for a solid thirty seconds. “Well…” Danny pushed.

“The police station’s computer system needs a serious update. I tried to do it for my dad, but this stuff is all beyond me. Is there any chance you have time to come look at it?” Stiles asked.

“So, it’s a favor for the sheriff, not for you?” Danny asked.

“Yeah,” Stiles acknowledged.

“I’ll do it,” Danny answered. That was the thing about Danny. He was too nice. That’s why everyone liked him. 

“Thank you,” Stiles said sincerely.

“Give my number to the sheriff, though,” Danny said. “I’ll work everything out with him from this point on.”

“I understand,” Stiles said. Although, that did sort of sting a little. 

He hung up the phone. If Stiles wasn’t in a bad mood from working on the damned computer, he was definitely in a bad mood because of Danny. He didn’t realize he had hurt Danny that much. After such a good morning, this bad mood felt even worse.

Stile’s pocket vibrated. He pulled out his phone.

[Hey, Stiles. It’s Derek. Are you still working on your dad’s computer?]

[Nope. Did we exchange numbers last night?]

[We did not. I obtained it through some very impressive detective work, though.]

Stiles laughed at that one before sending, [You looked at my gym application.]

[WHAT? I would never…that would be intrusive…ok, yes.] Derek admitted.

Joke-filled Derek was cute, Stiles thought. NO. Stop it, he told himself. [What’s up?]

It took a minute for Derek to respond with, [Do you want to work out early tonight and then go see that new Star Trek parody that came out last night? You mentioned you wanted to see it last night…sounds fun.]

Stiles didn’t remember mentioning that, but he’s sure there is plenty he doesn’t remember. He really did want to go see the movie, though. Chris Pine and Zachary Quinto were supposed to make cameo appearances in it! [Sure!]

[I’ll see you around 7:00 at the gym, then?] Derek planned.

[Works for me!] Stiles replied.

***

Derek had already bought the movie tickets online and wouldn’t let Stiles give him any money for them. So, Stiles insisted on buying refreshments. Derek was going to order a water, but Stiles informed him about the everyone-must-have-pop-and-popcorn rule for attending movies with Stiles. And, yes; the popcorn must be covered in butter. 

Stiles thoroughly enjoyed the movie as well. It did a great job making fun of all of his favorite tropes from the series. Even Derek laughed a lot throughout the movie, which surprised Stiles. He couldn’t imagine how a non-Trekkie would understand the jokes, but Derek seemed to enjoy himself. 

They walked out to Derek’s Camaro still talking about the movie.

“What was your favorite part?” Stiles asked Derek.

“I liked how every single person in a red shirt died. You know, not just the officers, but random people in the streets…aliens in red…red animals. That was funny,” Derek admitted.

“That was a running joke in the original series,” Stiles explained. “Any officer on away missions in a red shirt—except Scotty—was the one who died.”

“I know,” Derek said nonchalantly.

“What do you mean, ‘I know’?” Stiles asked.

“I have seen Star Trek before,” Derek answered. “I used to watch it with my mom.” Derek smiled at the memory. “Why do you think I wanted to see it?”

“I figured you were just bored and didn’t want to spend the night staring at your giant-sized clock,” Stiles teased. “How was I supposed to guess that you were a closet Trekkie?” So, on top of all of the muscles and incredible personality, Derek was just as nerdy as Stiles? This crush is never going to go away, Stiles thought.

“My clock isn’t that bad,” Derek defended.

“It’s bigger than some television sets. I’m just saying,” Stiles continued to joke.

“Laura got it for me,” Derek said. “It was her ‘congrats on owning your own business’ gift.”

“Well, she may be smart, but her taste level is questionable,” Stiles laughed. “It’s really not that bad, though.”

“I’ll tell her you approve,” Derek assured him.

“Good,” Stiles said. He checked his phone: one in the morning.

“You ready to get out of here?” Derek asked.

“I really should,” Stiles answered. “It’s getting late.”

“Ok,” Derek said.

When Derek pulled up to the Stilinski house, he turned off the car and got out. He crossed his arms and rested them on the top of his car. He smiled widely at Stiles and said, “Thanks for another great night, Stiles. It’s great having someone to spend time with again.”

“I know what you mean,” Stiles replied. “I had a great time.”

“I’m glad,” Derek smiled again. He seemed to shift uncomfortably on his feet like he was thinking about moving. Instead, he looked at Stiles and said, “Have a good night, Stiles.”

“You too,” Stiles echoed before walking into the house. 

Once inside, Stiles let himself fall back against the door. He cupped his face in his hands and shook his head slowly. He exhaled slowly before heading upstairs to his bedroom. Once there, he decided to mess around on the computer for a little while. After ten minutes of sitting there, Lydia popped up on his list of online users on Skype. He sent her a video call.

“Hey, babe!” she answered.

“Hey, Lydia,” Stiles greeted her.

“Where have you been the last two days?” she asked.

Stiles explained about Derek inviting him out the past two nights. He told her about crashing on Derek’s couch and about Derek’s inner Trekkie. He followed it up with a proud statement, though. “I haven’t done anything stupid, though, Lydia. I mean, I’m still completely enamored, but he has no idea.”

Lydia eyed him questioningly. There was obviously something on her mind.

“What?” Stiles asked. 

“Nothing,” she answered.

“Lydia, we’ve been best friends for years now. I think I know when you’re lying to me,” Stiles asserted.

“I’m just happy you’ve behaved,” she answers. Stiles can tell she’s being honest, but he knows she’s still holding something back. He lets it pass, though.

“Thank you,” he said.

“You’re crushing even harder, though,” she points out.

“You don’t know me. You don’t know my life,” Stiles responded.

Lydia laughed. “Oh, yes I do. And you’re falling hard.”

Stiles dropped his face into his hands again. “I can’t help it. Muscles, personality, brains, and nerdy interests…how the hell am I supposed to resist?”

“That’s a good question. Look, I’ve got to get to bed. I need a major study session tomorrow,” Lydia said.

“Ok,” Stiles responded. “Oh…hey. Scott is coming home next weekend. Any chance you can make it?” Stiles asked.

“My midterms are this week, so that shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll keep you updated,” Lydia promised. “Good night!”

“Ok. Good night!” Stiles echoed.

“Stiles,” Lydia said his name plainly. She hesitated afterwards, but added, “You don’t have to behave 100% of the time, ok? Night.”

She logged off before Stiles could ask her what she meant. She knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t the type to just go “misbehave” with a random guy at Jungle. He liked to know the person first…not that he judged anyone who did. It just wasn’t for Stiles. So, what did she mean he didn’t have to behave 100% of the time? He knew that question would keep him up for a while, but he climbed into bed anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who's sticking around. Leave me some comments to let me know what you think! Thank you!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles prepares for his friends' upcoming visit.

Sunday was an atypical day for Stiles. He spent much of the day in front of his computer and on his phone coordinating all of his friends’ return to Beacon Hills during the coming week. Since Scott and Lydia were both going to make it, Stiles had begged and pleaded with Allison and Isaac to visit as well. It didn’t take a lot of convincing, but it did take some planning.

Scott was easy because he was driving himself home. Isaac, Allison, and Lydia all needed to be picked up from the airport at different times and on two different days. Allison’s dad had agreed to pay for the ticket, but wouldn’t be able to pick her up because he had some defense contract meeting. So, Stiles volunteered. Lydia’s parents had moved out of Beacon Hills a few years ago, so she would need a place to stay. Luckily, the sheriff didn’t mind housing a strawberry blonde refuge. Isaac was the tricky one. He needed a ride and a place to stay.

[Hey…so, can Isaac stay with you and your mom this weekend?] Stiles messaged Scott.

[Uh…why?] Scott asked.

[Well, Lydia and I can just wait two hours at the airport for his plane to land after hers, but I don’t have any room at the house.] Stiles explained.

[Fine, but he better know he’s sleeping on the couch.] Scott replied after a few minutes.

[Great! Thanks.] Stiles sent.

After a few hours of back and forth texting with Scott, Allison, Lydia, and Isaac, Stiles felt secure in his plan for the week. He would pick Lydia and Isaac up from the airport on Wednesday night. The two hour wait for Isaac’s plane would give Stiles and Lydia a chance to catch up anyways. Thursday morning, Lydia could drop Stiles off at the paper and then drive his jeep to the airport and pick Allison up by noon. Scott would be coming into town Friday afternoon sometime.

He spent the rest of the day planning a large cookout for Friday night. It was rare for them all to be in the same city these days, so Stiles wanted to make sure everyone had a good time. So, there was a menu to be written and grocery shopping to be done because Stiles wouldn’t have time during the busy week. 

Stiles was midway down the seventh aisle when he bumped his cart—nearly toppling over with groceries—into some innocent bystander. It wasn’t really his fault, though. The victim had been bending over to grab something from a lower shelf, and his jeans hugged his perfect ass in a far-too-inviting way. Stiles had been distracted. 

“Oh!” the main exclaimed, surprised.

Stiles tried to apologize. “Oh, I’m so sorr—Derek?” Stiles asked.

“Stiles!” Derek said, now excited. “What are you doing here?”

“Renting a video,” Stiles mocked, nodding his head toward the myriad of goods in his cart.

“Oh, right. Dumb question,” Derek laughed. “Are you trying to feed half of Beacon Hills?”

Stiles smiled widely. “It may look like it, but no. Scott, Lydia, Isaac, and Allison are coming in for the weekend.” Between texting and conversations over the last two days, Derek knew all about Stiles’ closest friends. “I figured it’s a rare occurrence, so I wanted to do something memorable,” Stiles explained. Indicating the food, he added, “Hence the massive cookout.”

“That sounds like a great way to spend the night with your friends,” Derek praised. “Laura is coming into town this weekend as well. I still have to figure out what we’re going to do. She hates to just sit around my apartment.”

“You’re apartment isn’t that bad!” Stiles protested. “Hey, why don’t you guys come over on Friday?”

Derek smiled, but said, “We wouldn’t want to intrude on you and your friends.”

“Oh, please,” Stiles countered. “I’ve got plenty of food here, and it wouldn’t be intruding. I invited you. Plus, I think Laura and Lydia are going to get along really well, which may not actually be a good thing now that I think about it…” Stiles trailed off.

“Are you sure?” Derek asked.

“Definitely,” Stiles answered assuredly.

“Is there anything Laura and I can bring?” Derek wondered.

Stiles scanned over the cart once more. “I’ve really got it covered food-wise. You two should just show up,” Stiles persisted.

“We’ll figure out something to bring,” Derek promised. “We Hales aren’t loafers,” he joked.

Stiles laughed. “Why don’t you plan on being there around 6:30?”

“That sounds good to me,” Derek agreed. “I’ll…I’ll let you get back to your shopping.”

“Alright, man,” Stiles responded. “I’ll see you at the gym.”

“Later,” Derek echoed, smiling.

***

Sunday night through Tuesday afternoon went just as planned. Stiles worked out with Derek Sunday night, went to work and worked out with Derek on Monday, and worked through Tuesday afternoon. It wasn’t until Tuesday night that a hitch affected Stiles’ well-crafted plans. 

He was agitated as he stomped into the gym, annoyed. He grumbled a hello to Derek before making his way into the locker room and hastily changing his clothes with a bit more fervency than was necessary. He made so much noise that he didn’t hear Derek walk up behind him.

“What’s wrong?” Derek asked.

Stiles was startled. He composed himself and answered, “It’s nothing. Do you care if we drop the cardio tonight? I have to get back home as soon as possible tonight.”

“That’s fine,” Derek said, “as long as you tell me what’s going on.”

Stiles sighed. “I had this whole week figured out so I could get everyone here on time, and now that’s all out the window.”

“How so?” Derek asked, noticeably concerned. “Is someone not coming? If it’s Laura and me, we don’t have to come over,” Derek offered.

Stiles raised his hands to his face and exhaled slowly. “It’s not you and Laura. And, everyone is still coming. My jeep just died on me, and I have to pick up Lydia and Isaac tomorrow evening. I’ve called like three mechanics and I can’t get the jeep in until Thursday, when Lydia is supposed to take it to pick up Allison. Dad only has the cruiser, and Scott won’t be in town until Friday.”

“How’d you get here?” Derek asked.

“I walked,” Stiles answered a bit sharply.

Derek grabbed Stiles’ left shoulder and squeezed. It calmed Stiles a bit. “Hey, you’re overlooking a simple solution,” Derek said.

“What’s that?” Stiles asked.

Derek volunteered, “Why don’t I just drive you to the airport tomorrow night?”

“That’s a really nice offer, Derek, but there’s a two-hour wait between Lydia and Isaac’s flights,” Stiles told him.

“So, I’ll get to know one of your friends while we wait on the other,” Derek said nonchalantly. 

“I can’t ask you to do that, Derek,” Stiles argued.

“You didn’t; I volunteered,” Derek insisted.

Smart. Nerdy. Hot. Muscly. Now, he’s sweet on top of all that, Stiles thought to himself. This thing was never going to end, was it?

“You’re sure?” Stiles asked.

“I’m sure,” Derek answered with a big smile on his face. “Do you need a ride to work in the morning, too?”

Stiles wanted to say yes. He really did, but he knew he should try to keep his one-on-one time with Derek to a minimum. It was better if they did things like hanging out in a bar or at the movies. Being alone in the gym was one thing; they had a specific goal in mind that Stiles could focus on. Being alone in Derek’s car meant Stiles’ mind could wander. Then, again, Lydia did tell him he didn’t have to behave 100 percent of the time.

“If that’s not asking too much,” Stiles answered.

“You still haven’t asked for anything,” Derek reminded him.

“Thanks,” Stiles said.

Derek nodded his thanks. Then, he upped Stiles weights by five pounds on each machine so Stiles could take his anger out on the machines. After the tough workout, Derek insisted on driving Stiles home again.

***

Stiles walked quickly into the house. He thought about how upset he was before he went to the gym. Derek did a great job of calming him down, though. Derek’s grip on his shoulder had anchored him to sanity for a few minutes. Then, Derek’s sweet nature relaxed Stiles into a sense of calm. The workout didn’t hurt either.

He started walking toward the stairs and his bedroom. As he reached the first step his father’s voice startled him.

“Hey,” was all the sheriff said, but it carried the weight of a much larger conversation.

Stiles walked into the living room and sat down on the couch. “Hey,” he replied.

“I’m way past caring how late or how often you come and go,” the sheriff started. “You are an adult, now. I can’t help but noticing you’ve been coming home later the last few weeks and particularly this past weekend. Is everything ok?”

“Dad, yes,” Stiles answered. “Everything is fine. I’m just actually having a social life,” Stiles answered.

“Well, I noticed you haven’t exactly been driving yourself home either,” his dad pushed knowingly. “Is there a new guy I need to know about?”

Stiles laughed. “God, I wish. No, Dad. It’s just a friend. Derek Hale. He owns that gym—At Your Convenience,” Stiles explained.

“Oh, Derek’s a good kid,” the sheriff said. 

“A good straight kid,” Stiles pouted before sighing. “It doesn’t matter anyway. Even if he were gay, I’d just find a way to screw things up anyway.”

“Why do you say that?” his dad asked.

“Only every experience I ever had in college and then top it all off with Danny,” Stiles presented. “I have a horrible track record with guys, Dad.”

“Look, Stiles. You’re wiry, talkative, accident-prone, and probably the worst case of ADD I’ve ever encountered,” the sheriff said.

“Thanks,” Stiles joked, rolling his eyes.

“Listen,” the sheriff ordered. “You’re all of that, but you’re also incredibly smart, creative, inquisitive, and an incredible friend. Look at what you’ve organized this week for your friends. Any guy would be lucky to have you in his life. Us Stilinskis don’t throw pity parties.” His dad reached over and messed up Stiles’ hair.

Stiles couldn’t help but smile. It was good to know someone was in his corner no matter what. “Thanks, Dad. Like I said, he’s straight, though. So, it doesn’t matter anyway.”

“Are you sure he’s straight?” his dad asked.

“I’m fairly sure,” Stiles answered.

“Well, have you asked him?”

Stiles choked a little at the idea. “Uh, no. That’s not just something you bring up with a guy dad. ‘How’s the weather? How’s work? Are you into penises?’ It doesn’t work that way.”

“Well, I would use a little more couth than that,” his dad countered. “Male friends can talk about former relationships, right? Why not ask about his?”

“Because I don’t want to screw up this friendship like I did with Matt,” Stiles answered.

“Look, son. You can’t let one mistake plague your entire future,” the sheriff said as he walked away to his own room leaving Stiles sitting on the couch to ponder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this one was about 200 words shorter than my normal chapters, but the next one is going to be quite a bit longer than the others.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek acts as chauffeur for the day.

Stiles was startled awake the next morning by the unexpected sound of a car horn. Well, it wasn’t entirely unexpected; Derek had said he would honk when he got there. However, Stiles thought they had agreed on an 8:45 AM pickup. Fearing he had overslept, Stiles quickly checked his cell phone for the time. The clean clearly showed that it was only 7:50. He sent a quick text to Derek.

[My phone says you’re early…]

Derek responded immediately. [I figured you’d be up by now. I thought we could get breakfast at the diner before I drop you off at work.]

Before he began working out with Derek, Stiles had never really been much of a breakfast eater. Derek explained how eating breakfast was instrumental in kickstarting the metabolism, though; so, Stiles had been scarfing down a piece of toast and a banana for breakfast most mornings since. He still wasn’t a big fan of most breakfast foods, but he figured breakfast with Derek meant more alone time with Derek. And, since he had decided alone time with Derek was acceptable today on the way to work, an extra hour really wasn’t going to hurt anything.

[Just give me a minute to get dressed. Breakfast sounds good.] Stiles texted.

Seven minutes later, Stiles walked out the front door towards Derek car. He took a few extra minutes to make sure he picked out a decent outfit and did his hair because Lydia would expect him in top shape tonight at the airport—it had absolutely nothing to do with wanting to impress Derek, honestly. Derek smiled at Stiles as he settled into the car.

“How long ago did you wake up?” Derek asked, eyes giving Stiles the once-over.

Stiles was only mildly offended by the assertion that he looked like he had just woken up. He didn’t think he looked too horrible. “Uh…when you woke me up with that horn approximately seven minutes ago,” Stiles answered a bit too sharply.

Derek’s eyes widened a bit. “No! I didn’t mean it that way. Lydia’s going to completely approve, Stiles. I could never look like that in seven minutes.”

Oh. A compliment. Stiles hadn’t expected that. He supposed friends were allowed to give each other compliments, though. Even though Stiles had been hungover the only time he’d ever seen Derek in the morning, he had firsthand evidence that Derek looked like completely appetizing in the morning.

“You can’t lie to me; I’ve seen you in the morning before. You look fine in the morning,” Stiles responded. 

“I had already showered that morning, so you know nothing,” Derek countered. Stiles didn’t think much of the comment, because he too enjoyed the post-hangover shower.

“You’re right. You probably look hideous,” Stiles teased.

Derek laughed. “Sorry for waking you up, Stiles.”

“My alarm would have woken me up in a half hour anyway,” Stiles said. “An entire half hour later than your horn. 30 whole minutes. You know…just take an hour, divide it into quarters, double one of quarters.”

“It seems I’ve committed quite the crime,” Derek played along solemnly. 

“Well, you’re driving me to work and to the airport, so I guess we can consider it time served,” Stiles sighed.

“No, no. I did the crime, I’ll do the time. Breakfast is on me,” Derek claimed. “Does that sound fair?”

“Derek, you really don’t have to do that. I’m just giving you a hard time,” Stiles insisted.

“I know, and I’m still buying you breakfast,” Derek replied.

He did, too. The diner had been a little crowded, so Stiles and Derek sat at the counter. Derek recommended the blueberry pancakes and, although Stiles was skeptical, he tried them out. They were much better than expected. The tanginess of the blueberries mixed well with the sweetness of the syrup. The fresh-squeezed orange juice was great, too.

Most of their conversation was focused on planning out the day. Derek offered to pick Stiles up for lunch, but Stiles successfully insisted on staying at work all day. Breakfast on top of the rides to work and the airport were already pushing it in the alone-time department. Still, Derek tried again as he dropped Stiles off at The Beacon.

“Hey, I really don’t mind picking you up for lunch. I know you didn’t bring anything for lunch,” Derek said.

“I know, but everyone orders Chinese take-out for lunch on Wednesdays at the office. So, I’ll just put in an order,” Stiles promised. “I promise to keep the metabolism rolling.”

“Fine,” Derek relented. “I’ll be back here a little after five, then.”

“Alright,” Stiles acknowledged. “I’ll see you then.”

“See you,” Derek echoed.

***

It was important for Stiles to get as much work done as possible. That way, he would be able to leave work early on Thursday with Derek to pick up Allison from the airport. Stiles found it hard to focus on work, though. His brain kept focusing on the conversation he had had with his father the night before. 

Stiles had always just assumed that Derek was straight. When he thought about it, though, Stiles had never seen Derek with a girl. When the bartender hit on Derek all night, Derek ignored it. That could easily just mean Derek had been uninterested, though. Stiles had also never seen Derek with a guy, except for himself. Stiles tended to keep a straight-until-proven-otherwise policy, especially after screwing up with Matt. 

Masculinity had nothing to do with sexuality. Stiles knew that, but he couldn’t help thinking that Derek just seemed like the typical, straight-guy jock stereotype. I mean, sure, Derek enjoyed reading and educating himself, but being a bit nerdy wasn’t an indicator that someone was gay. Stiles just wished gay people had a special birthmark on the back of their hands or something else that clearly indicated their sexuality. 

His dad had suggested that Stiles just strike up a conversation about past relationships to give Stiles an idea. Stiles considered this option on and off all day, but decided he and Derek simply weren’t at the appropriate friendship level for that conversation. Sure, they had talked about family and friends, but past relationships had a certain sting to them that required a specific level of trust between two people. So, Stiles decided against asking Derek about his.

When Derek picked Stiles up ten minutes or so after five, Stiles had barely written two of the six articles he wanted to have done. He was also feeling newfound anxiety about the drive due to his day of overthinking. An hour and a half was a long time to be alone with a crush. Stiles felt incredibly awkward as he climbed into Derek’s front seat for the second time.

“Are you ok?” Derek asked.

“It was just a long day,” Stiles lied. “How was yours?”

“Apparently, better than yours,” Derek answered. “I signed on a few new members at the gym, which is always nice.”

“How many members do you have?” Stiles wondered.

“Well, today makes about 340, I think,” Derek said. “It sort of fluctuates between all of the one-month and three-month memberships.”

“How long have you had the gym?” Stiles asked. Stiles hated the clinical nature of the conversation, but it was better than an awkward silence.

“Almost two years now,” Derek answered. “It doesn’t seem real sometimes.”

“I’m sure. That’s a lot of members for only two years,” Stiles asserted.

“Well, I’m the only 24 hour facility in the city,” Derek explained. “I think I’m doing ok for myself. If you ask Laura, you’d think I own the Hilton Hotel empire.” Derek laughed.

Stiles smiled at Derek’s laughter. “I’m sure she’s just proud,” Stiles said.

“Proud doesn’t even touch it,” Derek argued. “You’d think she’s one of my investors or something. I think she’s trying to make up for the fact that Mom and Dad aren’t around to boast.”

For some reason, the heavier nature of the conversation actually calmed Stiles. This felt more like their normal interactions.

“Well, she sounds like a good sister, then. Although, I’ve never had a real sibling to compare. Scott is like my brother, but that’s not the same,” Stiles admitted.

“I remember the way you two were when you were younger. If you’re anything like that still, then you’re as much siblings as Laura and I are,” Derek assured him. 

“He’s always been there for me, and I would do anything for him,” Stiles pledged. “You know what he’s like, though. What’s Laura like? You don’t talk about her too much.”

“I like hearing about your friends and family; that’s why I don’t talk about her a lot,” Derek said.

“Well, we’ve got a long drive ahead of us. You should be able to catch me up on The Life and Times of Laura Hale,” Stiles joked.

“Fine,” Derek agreed.

The longer Derek talked, the more relaxed Stiles became. It was calming listening to the steady baritone of Derek’s voice. He was clearly just as proud of his sister as she was of him. He told Stiles how she dominated her Bachelor’s in Microbiology—in just three years—before getting accepted into the UC Berkeley Comparative Biolochemistry PhD program. Apparently, she was Lydia-level smart, which made Stiles fearful of the two meeting.

Laura was nearly 5 years older than Derek. She took care of him after their parents died in the fire. Derek had been 16, but needed someone to keep him from falling apart. Laura never complained about it, either. She never felt it was a burden. Once Derek graduated, Laura even accepted his choice to forego college. Although, after he spent a few years doing nothing, Laura insisted he put the money his parents left him to good use. Initially, she didn’t know if the gym was a good idea, but she knew Derek had to follow his own instincts. She couldn’t be happier that her doubts were wrong.

Stiles could tell how much Derek respected and loved her just by the tone of his voice and the reverence he used while speaking about her. Derek warned Stiles that Laura comes off as snarky and likes to tease a lot but, at her core, she deeply cares for people. 

“She sounds really awesome, Derek,” Stiles said as they walked into the airport. “It’s good that you have someone like that in your life. Someone you never have to doubt.”

“You know what it’s like,” Derek suggested. “You have your dad.”

“Yeah. My dad is really awesome,” Stiles admitted. “He thinks highly of you, too.”

“I’m glad,” Derek said with a smile. “My parents always thought you were a great, albeit energetic, kid. I’m sure they would really like the adult you’ve become.”

Somewhere in the back of his mind—or was it his heart—he felt a special sort of pride that Derek’s parents would like him. “They were always good to me. And I caused a lot of trouble back then,” Stiles remembered.

“Oh, I’m aware,” Derek agreed, laughing. “You were always poking around our yard and stomping down flower beds.”

“Hiding,” Stiles clarified. “I was hiding in the flower beds.” Stiles burst out laughing at his own admission.

Derek started laughing even harder. “Why on Earth were you hiding?”

He and Derek had had such smooth conversation for the last hour that he didn’t even think before he admitted, “I was spying on Derek Hale and his super cool friends.” Stiles’ cheeks reddened.

“My what?” Derek asked.

Well, why behave now, Stiles thought. “I thought you had really cool friends when I was little…or, more specifically, I thought you were like the king of the cool kids and they were only cool because they got to hang out with you.”

If Derek had been laughing before, he was completely and utterly amused by this assertion. His hands cradled his stomach from the joyful pain of laughter. As he settled down he said, “I was the opposite of cool. We were the school nerds, Stiles. Most days, we pretended to be Mortal Kombat characters in the back yard.”

“I remember,” Stiles said. “You made a great Johnny Cage. I always wanted to play.”

Derek bumped Stiles’ arm with his elbow and smiled at him. “You really thought I was one of the cool kids?” he asked.

Stiles’ breath caught a bit and he had to clear his throat to hide the sound. “Uh…yeah,” he answered. “I was a silly little five-year old, though,” Stiles admitted, returning Derek’s contact.

“So, you think I’m lame now?” Derek teased. Stiles probably imagined it, but he thought Derek inched forward bit.

“I spend a lot of time with you,” Stiles said leaning in a bit himself to test his imagination. “You can’t be that boring.”

“I’m basically the only person you know in town, though,” Derek countered. “It could just be out of pity.” Ok, Derek is definitely moving in closer. Fuck, maybe Stiles missed something.

“It’s not pity,” Stiles started. Fuck it, he thought. “It’s mo”

“STILES STILINSKI!” Lydia shouted from a few yards away, ruining whatever moment Stiles thought might be happening. He made a mental note to kill her later for this. The thought only lasted for a few seconds as Lydia literally jumped into Stiles’ arms hugging the breath out of him. Stiles squeezed back just as hard and lifted Lydia off of the ground. Stiles lowered her to the ground, and Lydia rushed to adjust her clothes back into order.

“That was very un-Lydia-like behavior,” Stiles declared. “You had a complete lack of decorum.”

“Well, I haven’t seen you in ages,” Lydia defended. “Nice muscles by the way, boo. This guy must really be good at his job,” Lydia said, indicating Derek. “Derek, I presume. I’m Lydia.”

“I gathered as much,” Derek said. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Lydia responded. “So, Stiles. I managed to get all of my professors—if you can call them that—to grade my midterms before I left.”

“Why would you do that?” Stiles asked.

“So she doesn’t have to stress while she’s here,” Derek answered. When Lydia and Stiles both stared at him inquisitively, Derek added, “Laura always does the same when she visits.”

“Who’s Laura? Your girlfriend?” Lydia asked, winking at Stiles.

“She’s my sister,” Derek corrected her. “She’s an ABD in Comparative Biochemistry.”

“Well, she sounds fun!” Lydia replied gleefully.

Stiles just shook his head. “I’ve decided the two of you don’t actually get to meet.”

“And just how are you going to keep us apart on Friday?” Lydia asked.

“I think I’m going to have to uninvited you,” Stiles teased.

Lydia laughed. “Even if you did, your dad would just reinvite me. He’s smart like that.”

“This isn’t going to end well,” Stiles said to Derek.

“I’m starting to see that,” Derek agreed.

The next two hours were filled mostly with Lydia complaining about her classmates, professors, and MIT in general. She understood that it was one of the best colleges in existence, but she just found the work too easy. Even with the double major, she had passed all of her exams with flying colors. 

During the wait, she and Derek also got to know each other a little better. She did most of the talking. Luckily, Stiles had already made it clear that Lydia was not to ask him about being gay or about past relationships and she actually listened to him for once.

“So, what’s Laura look like?” Lydia asked.

“She’s beautiful,” Derek said. He pulled out his phone and flipped through until he found a picture of her that he showed to Lydia.

“That’s an understatement!” Lydia exclaimed. “She has incredible taste in clothing. Do not leave her alone with Scott or Isaac. Ever.”

“Don’t let who near me?” Isaac asked, surprising everyone.

“Any human being with a vagina,” Lydia smiled.

“Fair enough,” Isaac agreed, laughing.

Hugs were shared quickly before Stiles introduced Isaac to Derek.

“And Derek is?” Isaac asked shaking his hand.

“My friend,” Stiles answered quickly. Something like disappointment flashed over Derek’s face. “And our ride back to Beacon Hills.”

“What happened to your jeep?” Isaac asked.

“My baby died on me, Isaac,” Stiles feigned tears. “She had a good life, though.”

“I can look at it for you if you want,” Isaac offered. 

“I already have an appointment with the mechanic,” Stiles said. “My baby needs a professional, bud. No offense.”

“None taken,” Isaac said sincerely. “Speaking of Beacon Hills, though, can we head home? It’s been a long day.”

“Sounds good to me,” Lydia agreed.

“Off we go, then,” Derek decided. 

Lydia grabbed Derek’s arm and walked ahead of Isaac and Stiles. She even managed to get Derek to pull her suitcase along. Stiles sighed. 

When Derek and Lydia got far enough ahead, Isaac whispered, “So, what’s his story? Gay? Straight? Heteroflexible?”

“Hetero…? Oh, flexible. That’s a good one,” Stiles admitted.

“Thanks,” Isaac accepted. “So?”

“Man, I don’t know. I’ve been assuming he’s straight, but we sort of had a moment before Lydia interrupted us. I don’t know what to think,” Stiles explained.

Isaac was visibly debating on something. “Look, it’s not really my place to jump in here, but I think it might be worth exploring. I’m not sure if you saw it, but I don’t think he liked being referred to as your ‘friend’.”

“I thought I was just imagining that,” Stiles said.

“You weren’t,” Isaac repeated. “He was quite disappointed. I don’t know if he’s gay or not; I just met the guy. All I’m saying is: if you’re interested in him, fish for some information.”

Stiles nodded slowly. As an outsider, Isaac always had a way of seeing things the others missed. He was used to being in the background and observing. “Thanks, Isaac.”

“Getcha some!” Isaac winked.

“Oh my god,” Stiles exclaimed.

“Hey!” Lydia shouted. “You two can talk on the way home. Let’s get a move on it.”

“Yeah,” Derek echoed. “Let’s get going!”

“We’re coming!” Stiles shouted back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you, thank you for hanging in there. I know it's been almost two weeks since I updated. I can only write on the weekends and I was in a wedding last weekend, so that took up almost all of my time. My boyfriend was also in town, so that took up the rest of my time. I hope this longer chapter makes up for my momentary absence!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allison, Scott, and Laura all arrive in time for the cookout.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't edit this chapter at all, so there may be more mistakes than normal! My apologies.

As much as Stiles was interested in discovering what the little moment with Derek meant, he was equally concerned that he had misread something. He had never really been the attractive person that everyone hit on. He had enough fun in college, but alcohol tends to fog up a person's vision. So, the prospect of spending another long car ride alone with Derek to pick up Allison just didn't seem worth the risk to Stiles. So, late Wednesday night, he convinced Allison to rent a car from the airport for a few days; he even offered to pay for it after explaining his predicament.

"You really don't have to do that," Allison said. "Dad wasn't happy with the idea of me being without a car anyway. So, he'll pay for it."

"If you're sure," Stiles agreed tentatively, "But, I really don't mind helping out with the cost. I'm the one who broke the plans."

"I'm sure, Stiles," Allison reassured him.

"Ok, we'll see you tomorrow afternoon, then," Stiles said.

"I can't wait," she replied.

Stiles released a long breath of air he hadn't realized he was holding in. In his 23 years, Stiles couldn't remember a time he had ever been this anxious and worked up over a guy. He thought it was fairly pathetic to act in such a manner, but he really couldn't help it. Derek just seemed to be such an important part of his life these days. What started out as a simple personal trainer and trainee relationship had turned into a solid friendship. Not counting the workouts, Stiles and Derek spent most nights of the week together. Dinners, trips to the bar, movies, and other plans kept them both occupied. 

Stiles hadn't even realized Derek had become such a routine part of his life. On some level he knew because of the time they were spending together, but after over-processing what happened at the airport, Stiles realized how much he would miss Derek if he weren't there. If, by some miracle, Stiles and Derek did start dating, what would happen when Stiles fucked it up? Stiles would be out his only friend left in town. His whole routine would be shifted.

Stiles decided it was time to start behaving again. He enjoyed friendship with Derek, and wasn't willing to risk it. Alone time with Derek definitely had to be off the table from then on. 

[Hey, Allison ended up renting a car for the weekend, so we don't have to pick her up from the airport. Thanks, though.] Stiles sent to Derek.

Derek responded quickly. [Oh, ok. You'll still need a ride to work in the morning, though, right?]

Shit. Stiles hadn't thought of that. [Actually, I got permission to work from home tomorrow since my car is in the shop. My boss is pretty cool. Thanks, though.]

It took Derek a minute to respond this time. [Yeah, that makes since. No big deal. Maybe I'll see you tomorrow night at the gym.]

[Maybe!] Stiles replies, knowing that he'll skip out on the gym. 

***

Thursday was quite uneventful. Stiles actually got quite a bit of work done at home during the morning. By the time Allison arrived in town, he only had one article left to write. He decided to put that one off until Friday morning. 

Allison, Isaac, Lydia, and Stiles spent the afternoon watching movies at the Stilinski house and gorging themselves on pizza. They also spent a lot of time catching each other up on their lives. Allison really loved working in Paris, but the designer she worked with had a completely different aesthetic than she wanted to pursue. The connections she was making were great, though. Isaac had discovered sports medicine and was finally taking classes he enjoyed!

Derek texted Stiles on and off throughout the day. Stiles felt awkward texting him back most of the day. He had decided to maintain the status quo between them, but he had no idea where Derek's mind was. He wanted to be friendly, but he didn't want to be flirty. It was just an awkward mess for Stiles. 

Finally, he let Derek know he wouldn't be at the gym. [Hey, Allison wants us all to go out tonight, so I'm not going to make it to the gym.]

[Ok. See you tomorrow! Have fun.] Derek responded.

***

Friday morning finally arrived and delivered Scott back to Stiles earlier than planned. Scott made his way through Stiles' house, unannounced, and he sprang up the stairs to Stiles' bedroom. He burst through the door and charged at Stiles, tackling him onto the floor in a giant bear hug.

"I missed you, too, bud," Stiles laughed.

"I don't know why I ever went away to college," Scott admitted, finally releasing Stiles and moving to sit on the bed. "I hate not seeing you every day, man. How're things going with the boyfriend?"

"Derek is most definitely not my boyfriend," Stiles retorted quickly.

"But, you want him to be," Scott teased raising his eyebrows.

Stiles shrugged. "Actually, I've sort of decided I like things the way they are. Derek is an important part of my life, and I don't want to risk changing that; I don't even know if he's interested."

"Bullshit!" Scott shouted.

"What?" Stiles asked.

"I call bullshit," Scott repeated. "You're just afraid you're going to fuck up and then hurt Derek and yourself."

Stiles smiled. Scott always did know him too well. "Maybe. It doesn't matter anyway; it's highly unlikely that he would be interested in me."

"Dude, you told me about the airport remember?" Scott urged. "On top of that, I've been getting play-by-plays from you since day one. Derek is definitely interested. Isaac thinks so, too."

"You and Isaac talked about this?" Stiles asked.

"I haven't seen the two of you together; Isaac has," Scott explained.

Stiles glared mockingly at him. "I'm not sure how I feel about this."

"You're not sure how you feel about two of your best friends being interested in your love life?" Scott teased.

"It sounds sweet when you put it like that," Stiles admitted.

"It happens," Scott said, but added, "Occasionally."

Stiles sighed. "I really like him, Scott."

"I know," Scott acknowledged. He put his arm around Stiles' shoulders. "Derek isn't going to be another Matt; I promise. Matt was an ass anyway, and Derek is actually gay...or, at least, bisexual."

"I just don't know what to do," Stiles said.

"He's coming over tonight, right?" Scott asked.

Stiles answered, "Yeah. His sister, Laura, is coming, too."

"Just act normal. You guys hang out a lot. Just be natural. You'll know when it's ok to start talking about the two of you," Scott assured him.

"I hope so," Stiles said. "Hey, enough about me, what about you? Any girls on the horizon?"

Scott shrugged his shoulders. "I'm kind of taking it easy right now, you know? It might be time to start looking for something a little more long-term. I haven't really had a girlfriend since Allison, man."

"I'm well-aware," Stiles joked. "That's cool, Scott. My little guy is growing up!"

"Shut up!" Scott retorted.

After an hour or so of "Scott time", Stiles worked hard on getting things ready for the cookout. There were plenty of foods that could be made beforehand. So, Stiles whipped up some cole slaw, potato salad, deviled eggs, and broccoli salad during the afternoon. He also had brats soaking in beer and a few pieces of chicken marinating, since Allison and Laura didn't eat red meat. The final prep work was three pies: one cherry, one apple, and a lemon meringue.

After his day of hard work, the only thing left to do was grill the brats, burgers, and chicken. Since there was an hour or so left before the cookout, Stiles decided he could fit in a short nap and shower before everyone arrived. One thing bothered him, though: he hadn't heard from Derek all day. He hoped Derek and Laura would still be attending because, as ironic as it may sound, he knew being with Derek in person would ease his worries...as long as they weren't alone.

***

Melissa and Scott were the first guests to arrive. Melissa brought along her world famous, homemade chocolate chip cookies; Scott brought his renowned case of Budweiser. They arrived fifteen minutes early, but they were family. Family can arrive whenever.

"Hey guys!" Stiles greeted as they walked through the door. Both Melissa and Scott wrapped Stiles in one-armed hugs. 

"Hey," Scott repeated while Melissa said, "Thanks for having us all over!"

"My motives were selfish, I can assure you," Stiles replied.

Melissa smacked the back of his head. "You're supposed to say 'you're welcome', Stiles."

Stiles nodded. "You're welcome, Stiles." Scott doubled over laughing.

Stiles ushered them to the back porch where the sheriff was busy cleaning the grill. Melissa went over to help him while Scott and Stiles filled a cooler with the beer Scott had brought. Everything always felt more right to Stiles when Melissa and Scott were over. The sheriff and Melissa were great friends; he and Scott were, too. When the four of them were together, it was the closest he felt to having a full-size family since his mom had passed. 

The doorbell interrupted Stiles' thoughts. He walked back through the house and greeted Isaac, Allison, and Lydia. Isaac toted a case of Heineken, Allison had two bottles of Bacardi, and Lydia brought a bottle of Rumplemintz. This night was going to be interesting.

Everyone followed Stiles and the smell of charcoal into the backyard. Sheriff Stilinski absolutely refused to use a gas grill, and everyone loved him for that. Isaac filled the rest of the cooler with his beer as everyone said their hellos. 

Stiles checked his watch after a few minutes and saw that it was more than fifteen minutes after six. He still hadn't heard from Derek yet. It seemed more likely that Derek wasn't going to come. There were two options for that, Stiles thought. Either the moment on Wednesday night freaked Derek out, or Stiles' weirdness over the last two days had. Stiles didn't know which would be the worse explanation.

After ten minutes or so, the food on the grill was almost done. So, Stiles had to get out all of the food that he had prepared earlier in the day. He was busy in the kitchen when he heard some increased commotion outside. He figured Scott had told a funny joke or something, so he didn't pay much attention to it. Instead, he stared at the open refrigerator and pondered how he was possibly going to carry everything outside in one trip. That's why he jumped suddenly, startled, as someone spoke behind him.

"They told me you were in here getting the rest of the food," Derek's voice said. Stiles couldn't help the smile that spread across his face even as his heart was trying to jump out of his chest at the shock.

Turning to face Derek, he asked, "Are you trying to kill me?"

"Why would I do that?" Derek wondered. Then he apologized, "Sorry."

"You almost missed dinner, you know," Stiles pointed out.

"Well, with Laura in town, things always take a bit longer. There are outfits to be picked out and whatnot," Derek explained.

"Excuses, excuses," Stiles teased.

"You look like you could use some help," Derek realized.

Stiles shrugged. "Well, only if you want to miss my balancing act." Derek laughed. "If you want to grab the potato salad and deviled eggs, I should be able to get broccoli salad, cole slaw, and all of the condiments. We can come back for the pies later."

"I think I can handle that," Derek agreed.

They carted all of the food out onto the back porch. The sheriff was just plating all of the burgers and brats. He used a separate plate for the chicken. As Stiles looked around, he found Laura easily in his group of friends. Laura stood slightly taller than Isaac, and had beautiful brown eyes. Her hair was the exact shade of Derek's, but it stretched down to her shoulder blades. Her style was flawless; she easily could have walked off of the cover of any magazine. The overall look was striking. She walked over and started to speak.

"Aren't you just the most adorable thing ever?" she asked. Stiles blushed a deep shade of red. "You must be Stiles," she asserted.

"Why do you say that?" Stiles asked.

"Because my baby brother has told me so much about you," she answered, winking at Derek.

"He has?" Stiles asked.

"I've told her a few things, I guess," Derek said.

"Yeah, ok, Der. We'll go with that," she teased. Stiles caught the nickname, though. "What's with your outfit, though, Stiles? You clearly have a nice body. You need to wear something to show that off more."

"Laura, don't be rude," Derek pleaded. 

Stiles blushed again, though. "I have your brother to thank for that. He's a drill sergeant," Stiles explained. "Anyways, I'm glad you guys could make it."

"We would have been here on time if my brother hadn't taken 30 whole minutes to pick out and outfit," Laura said.

Stiles laughed. "He said it was you," Stiles said.

"Technically, I didn't name names," Derek defended.

"Hey, food's ready," the sheriff interrupted. "Let's eat!"

The food was a hit. Everyone ate until they were stuffed. Stiles was not only happy that everyone liked the food, but he was thrilled that everyone seemed to have a great time. Derek and Laura meshed well with his family and friends, and something about that really made Stiles content. 

After dinner, Melissa and the sheriff went to a movie to leave the "kids", as they called them, to their own devices. Drinks, shots, and more drinks were consumed over the next two hours. More than a few drunk conversations were shared. Stiles and Laura had an entire 10-minute talk about red solo cups, not the Stiles really had much to say. Isaac and Scott shared a little too much about their past conquests from college. Stiles' dreaded moment happened as well. Laura and Lydia met and conversed. The two were a perfect fit and weren't seen apart from each other for the rest of the night. Stiles considered himself to be a fairly intelligent human being, but most of their conversations throughout the night soared well-beyond his comprehension.

By the time night had spread its darkness across the sky, nearly everyone was intoxicated. Stiles had stopped drinking an hour ago, and built a small fire in a pit in the back yard. He had dragged out an old, tattered patchwork quilt from the house and placed it on one side of the fire pit. He laid there by himself for a while just staring at the flickering embers. It was odd how focusing in on the orange coals seemed to clear his mind.

Stiles heard leaves on the ground crinkle as footsteps approached his place by the fire. He felt the quilt tighten slightly as someone added their weight to it. Derek tapped Stiles on the shoulder and handed him a glass of water.

"I thought you might need this," Derek said.

"Thanks," Stiles answered. He took a long drink of the cool liquid.

"You don't seem that drunk anymore," Derek assessed.

"I figured someone should be able to call an ambulance if necessary," Stiles joked. They both laughed. "I just wasn't quite in the mood to be wasted tonight."

"Me neither," Derek said. 

"I didn't think you seemed that drunk," Stiles noticed. "How much have you had?"

"I've had two whole beers," Derek admitted.

"Slow down there, crazy," Stiles teased.

Derek smiled. "So, you took the time to organize all of this, and you've been outside all by yourself for about thirty minutes. What gives?"

"I was just staring at the fire. It's easy to get lost in there," Stiles answered.

"True, but only when something is on your mind," Derek asserted. "Want to share?"

Stiles had already shared. He shared with Lydia, Scott, and even his dad and Isaac a bit. They all said he should talk to Derek. So, he decided to test the waters a bit.

"Recently, I've been focusing on my terrible relationship history," Stiles started. "I've basically ruined every opportunity I've ever had."

"We haven't been friends for a long time, but I can tell you from what I've seen you're being too hard on yourself," Derek said. "You're a sweet guy, Stiles. You're driven. You are dedicated. Anyone would be lucky to have you."

"That's nice of you to say, Derek, but I am literally guy-repellant," Stiles suggested. He did take notice of how Derek didn't flinch at his first admittance of being interested in guys. That's a good sign, right? 

"I'm still not seeing it," Derek said.

Stiles then went on a long explanation of his relationship history. He explained about exploring with guys at college, and the shame he felt. He talked about the incidents with Danny and Matt. In all honesty, he overshared. If Derek had had any interest in him before, Stiles was sure he sounded completely unappealing now, but at least everything was on the table.

"See, it's me," Stiles finished.

Derek was quiet for a minute. Then, he responded, "I'll admit, not calling Danny probably wasn't your best move, but that's really the only thing that could remotely be considered your fault."

"If you say so," Stiles relented.

"I definitely do," Derek answered. 

They laid there quietly for a few moments without saying anything. Then, Stiles worked up the nerve to ask, "What about you? Any horror stories?"

"A singular story, maybe," Derek answered. 

"So, a lot of happy stories, then?" Stiles asked.

"Not exactly," Derek said. He explained, "There's only ever been one story."

Derek wasn't openly sharing, so Styles wasn't going to push. "You don't have to talk about it," Stiles said.

"There's not much to tell," Derek admitted. 

They laid quietly for a few more moments. Stiles sighed. He had definitely told Derek too much about his past. His stories definitely scared him off. Stiles turned his head once again to the flickering embers.

"You say you remember me and my friends when we were younger," Derek interrupted the silence. "Do you remember my friend Boyd?"

"The bigger guy?" Stiles asked. Derek nodded. Stiles said, "Yeah, I remember. He was always the quiet one."

"That's him," Derek said.

"What about him?" Stiles asked.

"That's him; he's the only story," Derek clarified. Stiles turned back to face Derek. "He was my best friend growing up. When we were about 16, we got into some of Laura's liquor. One thing led to another, and we kissed. After that, we dated for about 2 and a half years before he cheated on me with a girl. Erika."

"Derek, I'm so sorry that happened to you," Stiles said.

Derek shrugged. "It's not your fault. It took a really long time before I felt like trying to date again, though."

"How long?" Stiles asked.

Derek hesitated. He looked Stiles right in the eye, though, when he said, "A few weeks ago give or take."

Butterflies started in Stile's stomach. "Is that so?"

"Mmmhmmm," Derek said, inching towards Stiles for the second time this week.

"That's around the same time I started wondering how not to fuck up my next relationship," Stiles admitted, moving closer himself.

"That's quite a coincidence," Derek whispered, warm breath hitting Stiles' lips causing him to shiver.

Derek grabbed Stiles arm as he captured Stiles' lower lip between both of his. Stiles' hand rested on Derek's waist. As the kiss continued, Stiles could feel the course scrape of Derek's facial hair against his mouth. The sensation only fueled Stiles' passion. Stiles' and Derek's bodies relaxed together as the month-long tension between them eased itself away. They're hands explored each other's arms and faces.

The back door burst open and a drunken Scott staggered out the back door shouting, "Hey guys! Take us to Jungle. We want to go dancing."

Stiles and Derek rolled away from each other smiling. Stiles was so relieved to finally have an answer to his questions about Derek that he wasn't even upset at Scott for interrupting their incredible makeout session. Stiles grabbed for Derek's hand knowing the Scott couldn't see them.

"We're coming," Stiles called back.

"If only," Derek whispered. 

Stiles couldn't prevent the blush that spread across his face. Luckily, it was covered by the orange glow of the fire. He leaned over and stole another kiss before dragging Derek into the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm excited for the next chapter. Hope you are, too!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The friends go to Jungle. Stiles and Derek sort out some feelings.

The drive to Jungle was quite interesting and barely achievable. Derek drove the Camaro, and insisted that Stiles sit up front to Laura’s dismay. Everyone else, except Allison—who was passed out on Stiles’ couch—managed to fit into the back seat. Stiles believed this was only possible because of drunk-math: one tiny backseat divided by four college students multiplied by the combined urge to dance plus countless amounts of alcohol equals completely possible. That was the only way Stiles could explain it anyway.

“Stiles. Hey, Stiles,” Scott said as he pulled at Stiles’ sleeve.

“What do you need buddy?” Stiles asked patiently.

“Did you get a chance to talk about…um…your preoccupation yet?” Scott asked.

Stiles would have punched Scott if he weren’t drunk. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I thin’ ‘e mins did ya ta’ ‘bout…y’know,” Isaac ‘clarified’.

“You’re not helping, Isaac,” Stiles said shooting a look at both of his friends.

“I can help!” Laura offered loudly. “They want to know if you and Derek talked about all of that tension between the two of you.” Stiles didn’t think her wiggling eyebrows were in the least bit helpful.

“Oh my god, Laura,” Derek uttered. “Please stop talking.”

“Oh, you did,” Laura guessed. “So, did you make out, too?” Even Derek’s typically controlled demeanor faltered, causing him to swerve the car slightly. Stiles stared forcefully out the window. “You did! You totally made out.”

“Yes, now stop talking,” Derek begged.

Isaac whistled his congratulations while Lydia giggled herself silly. Scott actually applauded the two of them. “Finally,” Scott said. “Well-done!”

Lydia stopped giggling long enough to sing, “Derek and Stiles sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”

“If you keep singing that, I’ll tell everyone what your natural hair color is,” Stiles interrupted. 

Lydia glared him down, but stopped singing. Derek reached his hand over and took hold of Stiles’. He mouthed “sorry” to Stiles. Stiles didn’t care that Derek had admitted kissing him. He squeezed Derek’s hand reassuringly, thankful they were finally pulling into Jungle.

Derek and Stiles managed to usher everyone into the bar and get their IDs scanned without any problems. Even drunk, Laura was helpful as well because the only noticeable difference between Drunk Laura and Sober Laura was that Drunk Laura talked louder. Once inside, they found a small couch along the back wall. From the couch, they could see the bar, dance floor, and stage. Stiles smiled widely as he realized it was a drag show night.

The drag show hostess had just been announcing a dance break when she spotted Stiles with his friends. “Stiles Stilinski!” she shouted into the microphone. “Get your sexy little ass up here, boo!”

Derek was smiling as he looked inquisitively at Stiles. “She’s an old friend,” Stiles answered the unasked question. “Now, I’ve got to go talk to a queen about her misconceptions about my ass.”

Stiles vaguely heard Derek mumble something about the drag queen being right as he made his way up to the stage. Stiles stopped right in front of the stage and waved wildly at the hostess. “Ramona Love! Where have you been all of my life?” Stiles asked.

“Bitch, I’ve been right here. Where have you been?” she retorted before extending a hand and pulling Stiles onto stage. “Show everyone that cute little ass!”

“I would if I had one,” Stiles asserted.

Ramona turned Stiles around so his ass was facing the audience. Stiles was glad he wore snug jeans that night. “What do you all think?” Ramona asked the crowded audience. Obnoxious applause and catcalls filled Stiles’ ears until he blushed a deep red. She pulled Stiles into a huge hug and whispered, “Told you so” into his ear and giving him a little shove off the stage.

When Stiles made it back to the couch, Derek was still smiling. “I told you she was right,” Derek teased.

“There are just a lot of crazy people here tonight,” Stiles countered. 

“Learn to take a compliment,” Scott interjected.

“Didn’t you come to dance?” Stiles asked.

“Yes!” Scott answered as if he were remembering something important. He turned to Lydia. “Lydia, could I have the pleasure of this dance?”

“Um, no,” Lydia answered. “We’re in a gay bar, and I’m going to dance with Laura.” She and Laura skipped over to the dance floor and showed its current inhabitants what dancing really was.

Stiles sat down, leaning slightly against Derek and holding his hand. Scott and Isaac were seated as well. Stiles laughed repeatedly as guys came up offering to buy Scott drinks or trying to get Isaac to dance with them. Neither of them really minded, but it must have started to get old because Scott reached over and grabbed Isaac’s hand. Isaac looked at him, confused.

“I’m tired of getting hit on,” Scott answered. “Maybe this way, people will think we’re together.”

“We’re not gay, though,” Isaac said, still holding Scott’s hand.

“So!” Scott replied.

“Fine but, if we’re going to pretend to be a couple, you’re going to have to buy me a drink and dance with me,” Isaac insisted.

Scott mulled this over for a moment. Then, he shrugged, “I came here to dance anyway.”

And they did. Stiles did notice that Scott and Isaac refused to dance as closely as Lydia and Laura were, but it was enough to keep of potential suitors. Ramona walked up and pulled Stiles onto the dance floor. They danced for about half of a song before Derek was there taking Ramona’s place.

“Jealous?” Stiles teased.

“More aroused than jealous,” Derek admitted. “I didn’t know a body could be so fluid.”

“Right! I’m just so irresistible,” Stiles mocked.

“You’re the only person who thinks that’s a joke,” Derek asserted before kissing Stiles.

After an hour or so of dancing, Stiles needed a glass of water. He and Derek took seats at the bar while they sipped their waters. Derek rested his hand on Stiles’ knee.

“Can I risk ruining this evening by asking a question?” Derek asked.

“You should always feel free to ask questions, Derek,” Stiles insisted. 

Derek motioned between the two of them with his hand and asked, “Why did it take so long for you to open up to me?”

Stiles chuckled slightly. “Honestly?” Derek nodded. “I didn’t even think you were gay until you almost kissed me at the airport.”

“I cooked you breakfast,” Derek answered.

“That makes you nice, not gay,” Stiles claimed.

“I was a bit too handsy while I trained you,” Derek asserted.

Stiles laughed. “I had nothing to compare it to. All trainers touch their trainees to show where they should be feeling the burn.”

“I drove you to work and the airport without hesitation,” Derek reminded him.

“Again, that could just be the actions of a nice guy,” Stiles repeated.

Derek laughed. “You really are oblivious, aren’t you?”

Stiles shrugged. “Apparently.”

“Well, then I’ll make sure to make this part as clear as possible: I have wanted to take you on an official date since you walked into the gym,” Derek declared. “Would you like to go out with me on Monday night?”

Stiles hated how easily he was blushing that night. Derek’s straightforwardness was striking, though. “Of course,” Stiles answered. He leaned in to kiss Derek, but Derek stopped him.

“This is going to sound silly, but I don’t think we should kiss again until after our date,” Derek admitted.

“That’s adorable,” Stiles responded. 

“It’s ok with you, though?” Derek asked.

“Completely,” Stiles assured him. “Can we still dance?”

“Sure,” Derek said.

After another hour or so of dancing—which included trading off partners with the others—to the different beats, Derek excused himself to the restroom. He wasn’t gone twenty seconds before someone stumbled into Stiles. Fuck. Stiles hadn’t seen Danny in weeks, and hadn’t talked to him since he fixed the sheriff’s computer.

“Sorry,” Danny said before recognizing Stiles. “Oh, it’s you.”

Stiles could easily tell that Danny was wasted. “Had a little bit to drink there, Danny? Do you have a ride home?”

“What’s it to you?” Danny asked.

“Well, I prefer my…friends don’t die on their way home,” Stiles answered.

“We’re not friends,” Danny stated. “A friend wouldn’t fuck you and then not call for weeks. That’s what assholes do. And whores. Assholes and whores. That’s what you are.”

Stiles had to admit that he deserved that. It still stung, though. “Look, Danny, I’m sorry about that. It was my first time and I was just really confused about everything and didn’t know what to say.”

“An ‘I’m sorry’ isn’t going to fix anything,” Danny said. “You never even thought about me, about how I might have felt. We spent the whole summer together, and I really started to love you. I still,” Danny cut himself off at what may have been a drunken realization.

“You’re right,” Stiles admitted. “I didn’t think about you. I was really selfish. We used to be really good friends, though, and I hate not having you in my life. I’m willing to do whatever,” Stiles was interrupted as Danny kissed him.

Shocked. Stiles was shocked by the sudden action. Very gently, Stiles pushed against Danny’s chest and pulled away from the kiss. He looked at Danny carefully.

“I’m sorry,” Danny said, and he rushed away.

Stiles walked as quickly as possible out to the smokers’ area for some fresh air. How would he even begin to process this night? Derek kissing him. Dancing with Derek. Setting up a date with Derek. Danny shouting at him. Danny kissing him. That was a lot to process. The cool air helped Stiles calm down a bit, but he was still tense when Derek walked up behind him. 

“You ok?” Derek asked. “You disappeared.”

Stiles took a deep breath. “Yeah, I just got hot in there and needed some air.”

“I’m ready to get out of here anyway. You want to round up the others and get out of here?” Derek asked. Was it just Stiles’ bad mood spilling over, or did Derek seem agitated, too?

“More than anything,” Stiles answered a little too quickly.

Within twenty minutes, everyone was rounded up and driven back to the Stilinski’s safely. The car ride home was quiet. Derek drove Laura home as soon as everyone else was out of the car. Stiles got Lydia, Isaac, and Scott into the house before taking a seat in his dad’s chair in the living room. There, he fell asleep thinking about all of the things Danny had sad about him.

***

The next morning, Stiles woke early. His dreams consisted mostly of Danny yelling at him, but in the final one Danny turned into Derek who was shouting the same, nasty things at Stiles. This is what woke him up. Stiles hated the idea of screwing things up with Derek and ever making him say such harsh things.

Allison stirred on the sofa next to him, so Stiles went to make a large pot of coffee. He knew everyone would need a cup or twelve. He was sitting a cup in front of Allison as she finally woke up.

“How’s your head?” Stiles asked.

“You’ve been hit by a lacrosse ball,” Allison stated. “Triple that.”

“Ouch,” Stiles winced.

“How’s everyone else?” she asked.

“I was just going to wake them,” Stiles admitted. He took a cup up to the spare room where he knew Lydia had crashed. She was out cold, but the smell of coffee slowly brought her to consciousness. 

“Just leave it and go,” she ordered. Stiles didn’t need to be told twice. He had experienced far too many of Lydia’s hangovers.

Stiles had assumed Scott crashed in his bed since they normally slept there when Scott stayed over. What he didn’t expect, though, was to find Scott and Isaac in bed together. Isaac had one arm under his own head with the other resting on Scott’s back, who was nuzzled up against Isaac’s chest. Stiles was confused, but happy they were wearing clothing. He cleared his throat. Isaac and Scott were both startled, but neither of them moved from their positions.

“Please tell me you didn’t have sex in my bed,” Stiles pleaded. 

“We didn’t,” said Scott. Then, he looked up at Isaac. “We didn’t did we?”

Isaac and Scott laughed.

“We’re not gay, Stiles,” Isaac said. “Scott’s just good at cuddling.”

“And Isaac is really warm,” Scott chimed in.

“You two are so strange,” Stiles noted. “There’s coffee downstairs when you non-gays are done being gay.” He winked so they knew he was teasing.

“There’s plenty of room in here, Stiles,” Scott pointed out.

“I’m good,” Stiles assured them.

***

By midday, everyone had left Stiles’ house. Allison drove herself, Lydia, and Isaac back to the airport. Scott headed back to the university to get some studying done. Stiles, once again, was alone. Well, that wasn’t true. He pulled out his phone and texted Derek.

[Everyone is gone. :( I’ll be all alone until our date tomorrow.] Stiles sent.

[About that…I’m not going to be able to go out on Monday.] Derek replied.

[That’s ok. Not a problem. We can do another night. :)] Stiles was only slightly disappointed, but a date on Tuesday would be as good as one on Monday.

He had to read Derek’s response three times before it sank in. [I don’t think this was a good idea, Stiles. I’m sorry.]

[Got it.] Is all Stiles could think of to respond.

Not having actually dated Derek, Stiles wondered why his heart hurt so much. It felt like a lacrosse ball had hit him squarely in the chest. All of a sudden, he wished he could climb into bed with Scott and Isaac for comfort, but he was alone again.

***

Three days later, Stiles’ hurt had turned into something resembling rage. He used this rage to carry him across town to Derek’s loft. He banged on the door, and was surprised to see Laura on the other side of it.

“Hi, Stiles,” she smiled kindly.

“I need to talk to your brother,” he said a bit harshly.

“Derek doesn’t really want to talk to you right now,” she explained.

“You know what? I didn’t want him to cancel our date. I didn’t want him to ignore me all week; so, frankly, I don’t care if he wants to talk or not. He’s going to put on his big boy boxers and suck it up,” Stiles’ anger provided him with more confidence than he’d ever had.

“I can’t argue with that,” Laura laughed. She opened the door and pointed Stiles toward Derek’s bedroom.

Stiles leaned against the doorway and started before Derek even saw him. “You want to explain why you canceled our date. ‘I don’t think this was a good idea’ didn’t really cut it for me. I thought we finally made some sort of breakthrough here and now, all of a sudden, you’re turning cold on me. What’s going on?”

“You know I was cheated on,” Derek stated. “I’m not going to be the other guy.”

“No one’s asking you to be,” Stiles retorted.

“I saw you with Danny,” Derek explained. “I saw you kissing him as I came out of the bathroom.”

Stiles hadn’t even thought there was any chance Derek had seen that. “No, what you saw was a wasted Danny kissing me. Danny and I haven’t been together in a long time. You know that.”

“Same difference,” Derek asserted. “I couldn’t watch it made me so sick to my stomach.”

“Well, then you missed the part where I shoved him away from me,” Stiles said.

“It doesn’t matter if you pushed him away or not,” Derek replied. “When I came out to find you, I asked you if you were ok. Clearly, you weren’t, but you lied to me. You should have told me about it.”

“He was drunk and I didn’t see it coming. I didn’t think it was important,” Stiles answered. “We weren’t even dating yet, Derek.”

“And I’m not going to be in another relationship full of lies, Stiles,” Derek responded. “It sucks. If you’re going to lie to me before we’ve even had our first date, how will I ever be able to trust you?”

It dawns on Stiles that very little of this conversation actually has anything to do with himself. “You’re just scared, Derek. You’re scared of being open to someone again, and trust me: I get it. But you’re walking away from something that could be truly great. Give me a call when you’re done being a coward.”

Stiles turned and walked out before Derek could say another word.

Laura stopped him at the door. “He really does care about you, Stiles. Just give him some time to figure out that you’re worth it.”

“If it’s meant to be, it shouldn’t take time, Laura,” Stiles said as he walked out the door.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Derek try to mend things.

The battered, blue jeep sped quickly toward the Stilinski house. Stiles was—holy fuck—Stiles was crying. He tried to figure out exactly what he was feeling. Was he sad? Angry? Hurt? Was he regretting his choice of to call Derek a coward? To be honest, he was all of those and more. Mostly, Stiles was disappointed.

Everyone told him he wouldn’t fuck things up this time. Well, they clearly had no idea what they were saying, Stiles thought. Then, a voice in the back of his head disagreed with him. If he really thought about it, he hadn’t done anything wrong. Danny kissed him. Derek overreacted without having all of the facts. Stiles definitely didn’t lie. Did he omit anything? Sure. However, he was almost certain he would have told Derek what happened if Derek had actually asked him outright.

Before he knew what was happening, Stiles had climbed the small pull-down ladder that led him into the attic. His father’s voice could be heard mumbling something about Stiles slamming the door and ignoring the sheriff. “You’re not a teenager anymore, Stiles. You can’t just go slamming doors and storming off when you’re angry.”

Stiles looked around the dusty, cluttered attic. He hadn’t been up there in years. He used to spend hours at a time up in the attic sifting through his mother’s things. When she had first passed, they always made him feel close to her. After a few years, they became painful reminders that she was gone. Every now and then, though—when he was sad or conflicted—he climbed up the rickety ladder and let her memories bring him peace.

Even though he had still been in college the last time he was up here, Stiles knew right where to find his favorite item of his mother’s. It was sitting on a short, oak bookshelf. There were 27 leather-bound books on the shelf in total, less than an inch-thick a piece. When Stiles first discovered his mother’s diaries, he wouldn’t read them; he didn’t want to invade her privacy. Eventually, though, it was as if she spoke to him through the pages of swirly, light handwriting. 

One sat horizontally on top of the others, out of place and a bit battered. Stiles had read this one more than any of the others. Some part of his memory was focused on the page he needed, because he opened it to find his favorite page. His favorite words.

The date was smudged from tears, but Stiles knew his birthday anyway. {My son was born today. Eyes full of wonder took in the entire new world around him until they stopped to look at me, and I knew instantly that I would never love anyone the way I love him.} A new stream of tears trickled down Stiles’ cheeks as he reread the short entry. He wanted his mom. She would know how to help him smooth things over with Derek. She had always known the right words to say.

Stiles searched the attic for a box he had never been through before. This was a task for as much time as he spent up there. In the back right corner, under a pile of five other boxes was a small, cardboard box, one of those produce boxes that have lids. In his mother’s handwriting were the words, “Stiles’ art – Kindergarten-2nd Grade”. Stiles had definitely never seen this box before. He took the lid off and began looking through the papers his mother had kept. There were portraits of his mother, drawings of—what Stiles can only assume is—a dragon, random strips of construction paper glued into odd shapes, pipe cleaners twisted into unrecognizable creations, and so much more. Stiles can’t believe she had kept all of this junk. A crayon drawing in the bottom of the box made Stiles smile widely. He knew how to get Derek back.

***

Butterflies flew rapidly inside Stiles’ stomach as he knocked on Derek’s door for the second time that day. He wasn’t surprised this time when Laura opened the door, though. He put his arms up defensively.

“I’m not here to yell at him again,” Stiles promised. “I have something I want to show him.”

“I wouldn’t care if you wanted to yell at him, Stiles,” Laura said. “He would deserve it. He’s not here, though.” Laura was smiling.

Her smile confused Stiles. “Where is he?”

“He left for your house about seven minutes after you left,” Laura told him.

Stiles should have known he wouldn’t be able to yell at Derek and get away with it. “Well, I guess it’s time to go face the music, then.” Stiles headed quickly to his car leaving Laura staring after him in the doorway.

***

When Stiles pulled into his own driveway, there was a distinctive lack of a certain Camaro. He threw up his arms in defeat as he walked into the house. His dad was sitting in the recliner eyeing Stiles.

“What?” Stiles asked a little too harshly.

“You’re…uh…Derek was here,” the sheriff explained.

“How angry was he?” Stiles asked.

The sheriff chuckled slightly. “Oh, I wouldn’t use the word angry. Instead, I would say,” Sheriff Stilinski was cut off by Stiles’ cell phone ringing.

“Hello?” Stiles answered without checking the ID.

“Stiles, we need to talk,” Derek said with a hint of exasperation in his voice.

“I know,” Stiles said. “I stopped by your place, but you had already left.”

“And I stopped by yours, but your dad didn’t know where you were,” Derek explained.

“Horrible timing,” Stiles mumbled.

“Look, I just sent Laura away for a while. Why don’t you come over here?” Derek asked.

“Yeah, that works,” Stiles agreed. 

***

When he walked up to Derek’s door for the third time, knots filled his stomach instead of butterflies. Hopefully he could get Derek to look at the picture before Derek started yelling at him. Stiles just had to make Derek see that he cared. Derek opened the door, interrupting Stiles’ thoughts.

“Hey,” Derek said sheepishly. Ok, that wasn’t what Stiles was expecting. Derek’s eyes definitely didn’t look angry.

“Hey,” Stiles copied. Derek opened the door further to usher Stiles inside. Stiles sat on the couch. “Will you sit with me and let me show you something before you start yelling at me and telling me how horrible I am for the things I said earlier?”

“Stiles, I’m not going,” Derek tried to say, but Stiles ignored him.

“Please, Derek?” Stiles begged. He wouldn’t look away from Derek.

Derek finally sat down beside Stiles, and asked, “What did you want to show me?”

“Well, I was feeling really guilty when I left earlier. I mean, I don’t feel like I did anything wrong the other night, but—no, Derek, please don’t say anything right now—I really regret calling you a coward. You’re one of the bravest people I know and that was wrong of me. So, when I got home, I rushed into our attic. That’s where we keep all of my mom’s stuff. Neither Dad nor I ever had the heart to get rid of her things,” Stiles explained. Tears were threatening Stiles, but he continued. “That’s where I go when I can’t figure things out on my own.

I started looking through this silly box of hers. It had all of these art projects from when I was like five-years old or so. They were typical kindergarten art projects, you know. Then, I found this. And, I know you think I wasn’t honest with you the other night, but nothing was going on with Danny—Derek, just let me finish. We haven’t gone on a date, but there’s been a connection here since I walked into the gym. Well, for me, there’s been a connection for much longer. Look,” Stiles instructed as he handed the picture to Derek.

Stiles looked at the picture again as Derek examined it for the first time. The white piece of paper had been transformed into a sort of family portrait. There was green grass at the bottom of the page and a small blue strip with a yellow dot at the top that was meant to be the sky. Stiles’ first home in the woods was drawn on the right hand side. In front of it—well labeled—were the sheriff and Stiles’ mom, holding hands. There was a heart drawn between their heads. A small figure labeled “Scott” was on the far left of the page. In the middle, were two figures with the names “Stiles” and “Derek” etched over them. Like Stiles’ parents, they were holding hands and had a heart between their heads.

“Hmmm,” Derek murmured. A smile stretched so wide on his face that he looked ten years younger. “Even then?”

“Well, I did think you were the epitome of cool, remember?” Stiles pointed out. “I just didn’t know what those feelings were when I was that young, but I think I’ve always been in love with you on some level.”

“Love?” Derek asked eyebrows raised.

Stiles’ ears burned a deep shade of red. He didn’t even realize he had used the word. It was strange to think he had only spent a few weeks with Derek, not including their childhood, but he definitely had strong feelings for him. It was like Derek was a piece to his puzzle that Stiles didn’t even know he was missing until he found him again. Stiles nodded through his blush as he said, “Yeah.”

“Always?” Derek followed up, using Stiles’ words against him.

“As long as I can remember,” Stiles answered.

A weight lifted itself off of Stiles’ shoulders as he answered the two questions. He also felt extremely vulnerable being so emotionally exposed. The fact the Derek hadn’t said anything did nothing to help.

“It’s too much, right?” Stiles admitted. “Look, you told me you didn’t want someone who lied. I know we haven’t even been on a date, and I know there’s no reason this shouldn’t freak you out. You asked; I answered. And, I need you to say something.”

Derek searched Stiles’ eyes. “You think I asked you over here to yell at you.” Stiles nodded. “I kept trying to tell you that wasn’t the case, but you wouldn’t let me speak.”

“Sorry,” Stiles said.

“Just let me finish,” Derek said. “You were right. I was being a coward. I knew it was true the minute you said it. I sat there for minutes without moving after you left. I probably would have sat there drowning in my own sorrow if Laura hadn’t literally slapped me out of my pining,” Derek said messaging a red spot on his cheek Stiles hadn’t noticed before then. “I believe her exact words were ‘He’s not another Boyd, idiot.’ And she was right: you’re not Boyd. It wasn’t fair of me to put my history on you. I asked you over to apologize and ask you if we could have a go at that date.”

“So, you don’t hate me?” Stiles asked.

“Of course, I don’t,” Derek said, slightly offended. “I love you.”

“You don’t have to say that just because I did, you know. I’m a big boy; I can handle it,” Stiles promised.

“You think you were the only who remembers our childhood? You annoyed my brothers and sisters so much, especially Laura,” Derek laughed. “I think you were too much for them. You never were for me, though. I was older than you, but I always wanted to be around you. My mom used to have this special tone she used when she talked about you and me. ‘You and Stiles sure got into a lot of trouble today’ she would say. ‘Me and Stiles’, I would think. It always made my heart feel warm. I didn’t know what it meant back then, either, Stiles, but I felt it. I still feel it. I do love you.”

One tear finally escaped Stiles’ composure. Derek placed his hand against Stiles’ cheek and wiped the tear off with his thumb. “I love you,” he repeated.

“I love you, too,” Stiles echoed.

Derek pulled Stiles into a deep kiss. They mapped the contours of each other’s mouths until Stiles finally had to pull away for some air. Both he and Derek were breathing heavily.

“I’m not sure about that date,” Stiles said with a stern look.

“Oh yeah?” Derek asked.

“I’m much more interested in staying in,” Stiles clarified, a smile breaking through his serious facade. Derek’s eyebrows rose as a smile stretched across his own face. Stiles couldn’t remember a time in his life when he was happier.

*** Epilogue ***

A year and a half later, Stiles was standing tall in a sleek, black tuxedo. His silver vest reflected little beams of light in every direction, and his bowtie was perfectly tied—thanks to one Lydia Martin. Opposite him stood Derek who was perfection in a white tuxedo. The silver vest looked just as striking against the white as it did on Stiles’ black. Derek was smiling brightly at Stiles and, after all this time, Stiles stomach still filled with butterflies at the expression.

When the music started, Stiles and Derek finally looked away from each other and turned their heads toward the aisle. Mrs. McCall escorted Scott down the silver aisle and kissed his hand before he took his place in front of the officiator. Scott smiled at Stiles as he passed him. Stiles winked at Scott before turning his attention back to the aisle where Sheriff Stilinski was escorting Isaac. Stiles’ dad hugged Isaac tightly before allowing him to join Scott at the front of the room.

Stiles used his thumb to twist his own wedding band around his left ring finger as he smiled at Derek one last time before turning his head to their best friends’ ceremony. Stiles and Derek had only dated for eight months before they decided to get married. After a short engagement, they were married six months ago, which was around the same time Scott and Isaac shocked everyone by announcing their engagement. Scott explained it to Stiles this way: “Neither of us identifies as gay, but we fell in love anyway. I don’t know why, but it doesn’t bother me or him. Be happy for us.” Stiles happily supported them and took up his role as best man.

The ceremony was short and to the point. Stiles appreciated that fact because, as happy as he was for his best friend, the sight of Derek in a white tuxedo again was driving Stiles crazy; he had to dance with his husband immediately. Stiles breathed in the smell of Derek’s cologne as they danced.

“How do you always manage to smell so tempting?” Stiles asked.

“I sacrificed a wolf to a druid once in the woods,” Derek answered swiftly.

Stiles raised one eyebrow. “Good for you.”

They both laughed. Stiles leaned into Derek a bit, feeling the familiar body against his. Tilting his head slightly to the right, Stiles captured Derek’s bottom lip in a simple kiss. Derek placed his hand in the middle of Stiles back and pulled him even closer, deepening the kiss. 

“Ok, brothers, that’s enough,” Laura interrupted. Derek and Stiles stuck their tongues out and licked at each other tauntingly. “Seriously? Are you twelve?”

“That’s enough, Stiles,” Lydia insisted. Stiles and Derek would taunt one of the terrible twosome, but not both at the same time. They learned that lesson a few months back.

“How’s work?” Stiles asked.

“Well, since the book we co-authored is being picked up by over 20 of the top 100 universities in the United States, Berkeley is allowing us to co-teach a course in exoplanetary bioscience,” Lydia answered proudly.

“And we told them we would consider it,” Laura furthered. When Stiles and Derek’s jaws dropped, Laura added, “What? Cambridge and Stanford have also asked us to teach a course. We have options, now.”

“One thing I know for sure is that you two have always had options,” Derek stated.

“Why aren’t you two ruling the world yet?” Scott asked as he and Isaac walked up to their friends.

“Who says we aren’t?” Laura asked.

No one had an answer to that. Instead, they all laughed. “Where’s Allison?” Laura asked.

Scott cleared his throat, anxiously. Stiles answered for him, “This was all just a bit much for her. She loves Scott and Isaac, but this is still an adjustment for her. She’ll come around soon enough.”

Isaac wrapped his arms around his new husband. “It was an adjustment for us, so we definitely can’t blame her.” He kissed Scott’s cheek.

They spent the rest of the night dancing, singing, and talking. Friendship was something Stiles refused to take for granted and he was more than thrilled that their lives had led them to where they were. Scott and Isaac were happy. Lydia and Laura were amazing. Allison—for the most part—was doing great with her new line in San Francisco. Stiles was the luckiest of all, though. Not only did he get to have all of his friends back in Beacon Hills for good, but he got to spend the rest of his life with the one man he’d loved since childhood. What more is there in life?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god! Thank you all so much for sticking in there! I really enjoyed this story, and I think I have a few 5k word or less updates planned that will follow these characters a bit. I hope you liked my ending!!! Pass on the link if you enjoyed it!


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